HIS    HOUR 


A  miniature  of  Prince  Milaslavski  in  the  uniform  of  one  of  his 
ancestors,  in  which  he  appeared  at  the  famous  fancy  ball  at 
the  Winter  Palace  some  years  ago.  He  was  about  twenty-three 
at  the  time.  I  have  selected  this  likeness  of  him  in  prefer- 
ence to  a  iMer  photograph,  as  the  artist  has  happily  caught 
him  in  one  OT  his  rarely  soft  moods,  and  also,  the  face  being 
clean  shaven,  the  characteristic  chiselling  of  the  lips  can  be  seen. 

THE    AUTHOR. 


HIS  HOUR 


BY 

ELINOR    GLYN 

Author  of  THREE  WEEKS,  ETC. 


N  EW    YORK 

GROSSET    &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Published,  October,  1910 


'His  Hour"  is  called  in  England  and  Russia  "When  the  Hour  Came.' 


WITH  GRATEFUL  HOMAGE  AND  DEVOTION 
I  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK  TO 

HER  IMPERIAL  HIGHNESS 

THE   GRAND  DUCHESS  VLADIMIR 

OF  RUSSIA 

In  memory  of  the  happy  evenings  spent  in 
her  gracious  presence  when  reading  to  her 
these  pages,  which  her  sympathetic  aid,  in 
facilitating  my  opportunities  for  studying  the 
Russian  character,  enabled  me  to  write.  Her 
kind  appreciation  of  the  finished  work  is  a 
source  of  the  deepest  gratification  to  me. 

ELINOB  GLYN 
St.  Petersburg,  May,  1910 


2195774 


HIS  HOUR 


CHAPTER  I 

E  Sphinx  was  smiling  its  eternal  smile. 
It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The 
tourists  had  returned  to  Cairo,  and  only 
an  Arab  or  two  lingered  near  the  boy  who  held 
Tamara's  camel,  and  then  gradually  slunk  away; 
thus,  but  for  Hafis,  she  was  alone — alone  with 
her  thoughts  and  the  Sphinx. 

The  strange,  mystical  face  looked  straight  at 
her  from  the  elevation  where  she  sat.  Its  sensual 
mocking  calm  penetrated  her  brain.  The  creature 
seemed  to  be  laughing  at  all  humanity — and  say- 
ing— "  There  is  no  beyond — live  and  enjoy  the 
things  of  the  present — Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry, 
for  to-morrow  you  die,  and  I — I  who  sit  here  and 
know,  tell  you  there  is  no  beyond.  The  things 
you  can  touch  and  hold  to  your  bodies  are  the 
only  ones  worth  grasping." 
1 


HIS  HOUR 

"No,  no!"  said  Tamara,  half  aloud,  "I  will 
not — I  will  not  believe  it." 

"Fool,"  said  the  Sphinx.  "What  is  your  soul? 
And  if  you  ,have  one,  what  have  you  done  with 
it  hitherto?  Are  you  any  light  in  the  world?— 
No,  you  have  lived  upon  the  orders  of  others,  you 
have  let  your  individuality  be  crushed  these  twenty- 
four  years — since  the  day  you  could  speak.  Just 
an  echo  it  is — that  fine  thing,  your  soul!  Show 
it  then,  if  you  have  one!  Do  you  possess  an  opin- 
ion ?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  You  simply  announce  plati- 
tudes that  you  have  been  taught  were  the  right 
answers  to  all  questions!  Believe  me,  you  have 
no  soul.  So  take  what  you  can — a  body!  You 
certainly  have  that,  one  can  see  it — well,  snatch 
what  it  can  bring  you,  since  you  have  not  enough 
will  to  try  for  higher  things.  Grasp  what  you 
may,  poor  weakling.  That  is  the  wisdom  sitting 
here  for  eternity  has  taught  me." 

Tamara  stirred  her  hands  in  protest — but  she 
knew  the  indictment  was  true.  Yes,  her  life  had 
been  one  long  commonplace  vista  of  following 
leads — like  a  sheep. 

But  was  it  too  late  to  change?    Had  she  the 


HIS  HOUR 

courage?  Dared  she  think  for  herself?  If  not^ 
the  mystic  message  of  the  Sphinx's  smile  were 
better  followed:  "Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for 
to-morrow  you  die." 

The  blue  of  the  sky  seemed  to  soothe  her,  and 
speak  of  hope.  Could  any  other  country  pro- 
duce a  sky  of  so  deep  a  sapphire  as  the  night  sky 
of  Egypt?  All  around  was  intense  sensuous 
warmth  and  stillness  almost  as  light  as  day. 

How  wise  she  had  been  to  break  through  the 
conventionality  which  surrounded  her — and  it 
had  required  some  nerve — so  as  to  be  able  to 
come  here  alone,  on  this  one  of  her  last  nights  in 

Egypt- 

She  half  smiled  when  she  thought  of  Millicent 
Hardcastle's  face  when  she  had  first  suggested  it. 
"My  dear  Tamara,  what — what  an  extraor- 
dinary thing  for  a  woman  to  do!  Go  to  the 
Sphinx  all  alone  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Would  not  people  think  it  very  strange?" 

Tamara  felt  a  qualm  for  a  second,  but  was 
rebellious. 

"Well,    perhaps — but    do    you    know,    Mflli- 
cent,  I  believe  I  don't  care.     That  carven  block 
3 


HIS  HOUR 

of  stone  has  had  a  curious  effect  upon  me.  It 
has  made  me  think  as  I  have  never  done  before. 
I  want  to  take  the  clearest  picture  away  with 
me — I  must  go." 

And  even  Mrs.  Hardcastle's  mild  assertion 
that  it  could  equally  well  be  viewed  and  studied 
at  a  more  reasonable  hour  did  not  move  Tamara, 
and  while  her  friend  slumbered  comfortably  in 
her  bed  at  Mena  House,  she  had  set  off,  a  self- 
conscious  feeling  of  a  truant  schoolboy  exalting 
and  yet  frightening  her. 

Tamara  was  a  widow.  James  Loraine  had 
been  everything  that  a  thoroughly  respectable 
English  husband  ought  to  be.  He  had  treated 
her  with  kindness,  he  had  given  her  a  comfort- 
able home — he  had  only  asked  her  to  spend  ten 
months  of  the  year  in  the  country,  and  he  had 
never  caused  her  a  moment's  jealousy. 

She  could  not  remember  her  heart  having 
beaten  an  atom  faster — or  slower —  for  his  coming 
or  going.  She  had  loved  him,  and  her  sisters 
and  brother,  and  father,  all  in  the  same  devoted 
way,  and  when  pneumonia  had  carried  him  off 
nearly  two  years  before,  she  had  grieved  with  the 
4 


HIS  HOUR 

measure  the  loss  of  any  one  of  them  would  have 
caused  her — that  was  sincerely  and  tenderly. 

They  were  such  a  nice  family,  Tamara's! 

For  hundreds  of  years  they  had  lived  on  the 
same  land,  doing  their  duty  to  their  neighbors 
and  helping  to  form  that  backbone  of  England 
of  which  we  hear  so  much  nowadays,  in  its 
passing  away. 

They  had  been  members  of  Parliament,  of 
solid  Whig,  and  later  of  Unionist,  views.  They 
had  been  staunch  Generals,  Chairmen  of  Quar- 
ter-Sessions, riders  to  hounds,  subscribers  to 
charities,  rigid  church-goers,  disciplined,  ortho- 
dox, worthy  members  of  society. 

Underdown  was  their  name,  and  Underwood 
their  home. 

That  Tamara  should  have  been  given  that 
Russian  appellation,  in  a  group  of  Gladys,  Mabels 
and  Dorothys,  must  have  surely  indicated  that 
fate  meant  her  to  follow  a  line  not  quite  so  mapped 
out  as  that  of  her  sisters'.  The  very  manner  of 
her  entry  into  the  world  was  not  in  accordance 
with  the  Underdown  plan. 

Her  mother,  Lady  Gertrude  Underdown,  had 
5 


HIS  HOUR 

contracted  a  friendship  with  the  wife  of  the  First 
Secretary  of  the  Russian  Embassy. 

Foreigners  were  not  looked  upon  with  favor 
in  the  home  circle,  and  instead  of  staying  only 
the  two  months  of  May  and  June,  as  she  was 
fully  entitled  to,  in  London,  she  had  insisted 
upon  remaining  for  July  as  well  that  year — to  be 
near  her  friend  Vera  and  enjoy  the  gay  world. 

The  Squire  had  grumbled,  but  acquiesced, 
though  when  afterward  a  fourth  daughter  was 
presented  to  him  with  a  request  that  she  might 
have  Princess  Vera  for  a  godmother  and  a  Russian 
name  to  be  called  by,  he  felt  himself  justified  in 
carping  at  fate. 

"Foreign  fandangoes,"  he  designated  such  ideas. 
However,  Lady  Gertrude  was  very  ill,  and  had  to 
be  humored,  so  the  affair  took  place,  and  Tamara 
the  baby  was  christened,  with  due  state. 

There  were  no  more  Russian  suggestions  in  the 
family;  the  son  and  heir  who  arrived  a  year  later 
became  plain  Tom,  and  then  Lady  Gertrude  Under- 
down  made  her  bow  to  the  world  and  retired  to 
the  family  vault  in  Underwood  Church. 

They  were  all  estimably  brought  up  by  an  aunt, 
6 


HIS  HOUR 

and  hardly  ever  left  the  country  until  each  one 
came  up  in  turn  to  be  presented  at  Court,  and  go 
through  a  fairly  dull  season  among  country  neigh- 
bors on  the  same  bent. 

Two  of  them,  including  Tamara,  had  secured 
suitable  husbands,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three 
years  the  latter  had  been  left  a  well-dowered  widow. 

She  had  worn  mourning  for  just  the  right  period, 
had  looked  after  her  affairs — handed  James'  place 
over  with  a  good  grace  to  James'  brother  and  an 
unliked  sister-in-law,  and  finally,  when  she  was 
wearing  grays  and  mauves,  two  years  almost  after 
her  loss,  she  had  allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded 
into  taking  a  trip  to  Egypt  with  her  friend, 
Millicent  Hardcastfe,  who  was  recovering  from 
influenza. 

It  had  caused  the  greatest  flutter  at  Under- 
wood, this  journey  abroad!  None  of  them  hadv 
been  further  than  Dresden,  where  each  girl  had 
learned  German  for  a  year  or  so  before  her 
presentation. 

And  what  had  Egypt  done  for  Tamara  ?  Lifted 
just  one  pretty  white  eyelid,  perhaps.  Stirred 
something  which  only  once  or  twice  in  her  life  she 
7 


HIS  HOUR 

had  been  dimly  conscious  of.  Everything  had  been 
a  kind  of  shock  to  her.  A  shock  of  an  agreeable 
description.  And  once  driving  at  night  in  the  orange 
groves  of  Ghezireh,  after  some  open-air  fete,  the 
heavy  scent  and  intoxicating  atmosphere  had  made 
her  blood  tingle.  She  felt  it  was  almost  wrong 
that  things  should  so  appeal  to  her  senses.  Any- 
thing which  appealed  deliberately  to  the  senses 
had  always  been  considered  as  more  than  almost 
wrong  at  Underwood  Chase. 

The  senses  were  improper  things  which  Aunt 
Clara  for  her  part  never  quite  understood  why  the 
Almighty  should  have  had  the  bad  taste  to  permit 
in  human  beings. 

But  the  Sphinx  was  again  talking  to  Tamara — 
only  this  time  in  the  voice  of  a  young  man — who 
without  a  word  of  warning  had  risen  from  a  bank 
of  sand  where  he  had  been  stretched  motionless 
and  unperceived. 

"A  fine  goddess,  is  she  not,  Madame,"  he  said. 

And  to  add  to  the  impertinence  of  a  stranger's 
addressing  her  at  all,  Tamara  was  further  incensed 
by  the  voice  being  that  of  a  foreigner! 

But  it  was  an  extraordinarily  pleasant  voice, 
8 


HIS  HOUR 

deep  and  tuneful,  and  the  "Insolent"  stood  over 
six  feet  high  and  was  as  slender  as  Tamara  her- 
self almost — in  spite  of  his  shoulders  and  air  of 
strength. 

She  hardly  knew  what  to  answer,  he  had  spoken 
with  such  ease  and  assurance,  almost  with  the  tone 
of  one  who  hails  a  fellow  worshiper  and  has  a  right 
to  exchange  sympathy. 

Tamara  had  been  startled,  too,  by  the  sudden 
rising  of  the  man  when  she  thought  she  was  alone, 
but  at  last  she  answered  slowly,  "  Yes. " 

"I  often  come  here  at  night,**  he  went  on,  "when 
those  devils  of  tourists  have  gone  back  in  their 
devil  of  a  tramway.  Then  you  get  her  alone — and 
she  says  things  to  you.  You  think  so,  too,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"Yes,"  again  said  Tamara,  convulsed  with 
wonder  at  herself  for  speaking  at  all. 

"At  first  I  was  angry  when  I  saw  your  camel 
against  the  sky  and  saw  you  come  and  dismount 
and  sit  and  look.  I  like  to  have  her  all  to  myself. 
But  afterwards  when  I  watched  you  I  saw  you 
meant  no  harm — you  aren't  a  tourist,  and  so  you 
did  not  matter." 

"Indeed,"  said  Tamara,  the  fine  in  her  grasping 
9 


HIS  HOUR 

the  situation,  the   Underdown   training   resenting 
its  unconventionality. 

"Yes,**  he  continued,  unconcerned.  "You 
can't  look  at  that  face  and  feel  we  any  of  us  matter 
much — can  you?" 

"No,"  said  Tamara. 

"  How  many  thousand  years  has  she  been  telling 
people  that?  But  it  drives  me  mad,  angry, 
furious,  to  see  the  tourists!  I  want  to  strangle 
them  all!" 

He  clenched  his  hand  and  his  eyes  flashed. 

Tamara  peeped  up  at  him — he  was  not  looking 
at  her — but  at  the  Sphinx.  She  saw  that  he  was 
extremely  attractive  in  spite  of  having  un-English 
clothes,  which  were  not  worn  with  ease.  Gray 
flannel  of  unspeakable  cut,  and  boots  which  would 
have  made  her  brother  Tom  shriek  with  laughter. 
The  Underdown  part  of  her  whispered,  could  he 
be  quite  a  gentleman?  But  when  he  turned  his 
face  full  upon  her  in  the  moonlight,  that  doubt 
vanished  completely.  He  might  even  be  a  very 
great  gentleman,  she  thought. 

"Would  you  like  to  see  a  bit  of  the  Arabian 
Nights?"  he  asked  her. 

10 


HIS  HOUR 


Tamara  rose.  This  really  ought  no  to  go  on, 
this  conversation — and  yet — 

"Yes,  I  would,"  she  said. 

"Well,  the  spell  is  broken  of  the  Sphinx,"  he 
continued.  "She  can't  talk  to  me  with  you  there, 
and  she  can't  talk  to  you  with  me  near,  so  let  us  go 
and  see  something  else  that  is  interesting  together. " 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Tamara. 

"The  Sheikh's  village  down  below.  Half  the 
people  who  come  don't  realize  it  is  there,  and  the 
other  hah*  would  be  afraid  to  ride  through  it  at 
night — but  they  know  me  and  I  will  take  care  of 
you. " 

Without  the  least  further  hesitation  he  called 
Han's  and  the  camel,  spoke  to  them  in  Arabic,  and 
then  stood  ready  to  help  Tamara  up.  She  seemed 
hypnotized,  when  she  was  settled  in  the  high  saddle. 
She  began  to  realize  that  she  was  going  into  the 
unknown  with  a  perfect  stranger,  but  she  did  not 
think  of  turning  back. 

"What  do  you  ride?"  she  asked. 

"See,"  he  said,  and  he  made  a  strange  low 
whistle,  which  was  instantly  answered  by  an 
equally  strange  low  whinny  of  a  horse,  and  a 
3  11 


HIS  HOUR 

beautiful  Arab  appeared  from  the  foot  of  the 
rocks — where  all  things  were  in  shadow — led  by 
a  little  brown  boy. 

"I  am  taking  him  back  with  me,"  he  said. 
"Isn't  he  a  beauty.  I  only  bought  him  a  week 
ago,  and  he  already  knows  me." 

Then  he  was  in  the  saddle  with  the  lightest 
bound,  and  Tamara,  who  had  always  admired 
Tom  on  a  horse,  knew  that  she  had  never  seen 
anyone  who  seemed  so  much  a  part  of  his  mount 
as  this  quaint  foreigner.  "I  suppose  he  is  an 
Austrian,"  she  said  to  herself,  and  then  added 
with  English  insular  arrogance,  "Only  Austrians 
are  like  us." 

The  young  man  appeared  quite  indifferent 
to  anything  she  thought.  He  prepared  to  lead  the 
way  down  beyond  the  Sphinx,  apparently  into  the 
desert. 

Now  that  he  was  in  front  of  her,  Tamara  could 
not  help  admiring  the  lines  of  his  figure.  He 
was  certainly  a  very  decent  shape,  and  certainly 
knew  how  to  ride. 

Then  it  came  to  her  that  this  was  a  most  singular 
adventure,  and  the  faint  pink  mounted  to  her 


HIS  HOUR 

clear  cheeks  when  she  remembered  how  dread- 
fully shocked  Millicent  would  be — or  any  of  the 
family!  But  it  was  her  night  of  rebellion,  so 
things  must  take  their  course. 

The  young  man  rode  in  front  until  they  were 
on  the  flat  desert,  then  he  drew  rein  and  waited 
for  her. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "we  skirt  these  rocks  and 
then  we  shall  ride  through  the  village.  One  can 
very  well  imagine  it  has  been  the  same  always." 

They  entered  the  little  town.  The  streets  were 
extremely  narrow  and  the  dark  houses  gave  an 
air  of  mystery — a  speculation — what  could  be  going 
on  behind  those  closed  shutters?  Here  and  there 
a  straight  blue-clad  figure  slunk  away  round  a  cor- 
ner. There  was  a  deep  silence  and  the  moonlight 
made  the  shadows  sharp  as  a  knife.  Then  a  shaft 
of  red  light  would  shoot  from  some  strange  low 
hovel  as  they  passed,  and  they  could  see  inside  a 
circle  of  Arab  Bedouins  crouching  over  a  fire. 
There  seemed  no  hilarity,  their  faces  were  solemn 
as  the  grave. 

Presently,  in  the  narrowest  and  darkest  street, 
there  was  a  sound  of  tom-toms,  strains  of  weird 
13 


HIS  HOUR 

music  and  voices,  and  through  the  chinks  of  the 
half-opened  shutters  light  streamed  across  the  road 
— while  a  small  crowd  of  Arabs  were  grouped  about 
the  gate  in  the  wall  holding  donkeys  and  a  camel. 

"A  wedding,"  said  the  young  man.  "They  have 
escorted  the  bride.  What  pleasure  to  raise  a  veil 
and  see  a  black  face!  But  each  one  to  his  taste." 

Tamara  looked  up  at  the  window.  She  wondered 
what  could  be  happening  within — were  the  other 
wives  there  as  well  ?  She  would  have  liked  to  have 
asked. 

The  young  man  saw  her  hesitation  and  said 
laconically — 

"Well?" 

"They  are  having  a  party,"  Tamara  replied, 
with  lame  obviousness. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  young  man.  "Weddings 
and  funerals — equally  good  occasions  for  company. 
They  are  so  wise  they  leave  all  to  fate;  they  do  not 
tear  their  eyes  out  for  something  they  cannot  have — 
and  fight  after  disappointment.  They  are  philoso- 
phers, these  Arabs." 

The  little  crowd  round  the  gate  now  barred  the 
road,  half  good  humoredly,  half  with  menace. 
14 


HIS  HOUR 

"So,  so,"  said  the  young  man,  riding  in  front. 
Then  he  laughed,  and  putting  his  hand  in  his 
pocket,  brought  out  a  quantity  of  silver  and  flung 
it  among  them  with  merry  words  in  Arabic,  while 
he  pointed  to  the  windows  of  the  house. 

Then  he  seized  the  bridle  of  Tamara's  camel 
and  started  his  horse  forward.  The  crowd  smiled 
now  and  began  scrambling  for  the  baksheesh,  and 
so  they  got  through  in  peace. 

Neither  spoke  until  they  were  in  a  silent  lane 
again. 

"Sometimes  they  can  be  quite  disagreeable,'* 
he  said,  "but  it  is  amusing  to  see  it  ah*.  The 
Sheikh  lives  here — he  fancies  the  pyramids  belong 
to  him,  just  as  the  Khedive  fancies  all  Egypt  is  his — 
life  is  mostly  imagination.'* 

Now  Tamara  could  see  his  face  better  as  he 
looked  up  to  her  superior  height  on  the  camel. 
He  had  a  little  moustache  and  peculiarly  chiseled 
lips — too  chiseled  for  a  man,  she  thought  for  a 
moment,  until  she  noticed  the  firm  jaw.  His  eyes 
were  sleepy — slightly  Oriental  in  their  setting,  and 
looked  very  dark,  and  yet  something  made  her 
think  that  in  daylight  they  might  be  blue  or  gray. 
15 


HIS  HOUR 

He  did  not  smile  at  all;  as  he  spoke  his  face  was 
grave,  but  when  something  made  him  laugh  as 
they  turned  the  next  corner,  it  transformed  him. 
It  was  the  rippling  spontaneous  gaiety  of  a  child. 

Two  goats  had  got  loose  from  opposite  hovels 
and  were  butting  at  one  another  in  the  middle  of 
the  road. 

He  pulled  up  his  horse  and  watched. 

"I  like  any  fight,"  he  said. 

But  the  goats  fled  in  fear  of  him,  so  they  went  on. 

Tamara  was  wondering  why  she  felt  so  stupid. 
She  wanted  to  ask  her  strange  companion  a  num- 
ber of  questions.  Who  he  was?  What  he  was 
doing  at  the  Sphinx  ? — and  indeed  in  Egypt.  Why 
he  had  spoken  to  her  at  all? — and  yet  appeared 
absolutely  indifferent  as  they  rode  along!  He  had 
not  asked  her  a  single  question  or  expressed  the 
least  curiosity.  For  some  reason  she  felt  piqued. 

Presently  they  emerged  at  the  end  of  the  village 
where  there  was  a  small  lake  left  by  the  retirement 
of  the  Nile.  The  moon,  almost  full,  was  mirrored 
in  it.  The  scene  was  one  of  extreme  beauty.  The 
pyramids  appeared  an  old  rose  pink,  and  every- 
thing else  in  tones  of  sapphire — not  the  green-blue 
16 


HIS  HOUR 

of  moonlight  in  other  countries.  All  was  breath- 
lessly still  and  lifeless.  Only  they  two,  and  the 
camel  boys,  alone  in  the  night. 

The  dark  line  of  trees  which  border  the  road 
faced  them,  and  they  rode  slowly  in  that  direction. 

"You  are  going  to  the  hotel,  I  suppose?"  he 
said.  "  I  will  see  you  safely  to  it." 

And  they  climbed  the  bank  on  to  the  avenue 
from  Cairo. 

"And  you?"  Tamara  could  not  prevent  herself 
from  asking.  ** Where  do  you  go?" 

"To  hell,  sometimes,"  he  answered,  and  his 
eyes  were  full  of  mist,  "but  to-night  I  shall  go  to 
bed  for  a  change." 

Tamara  was  nonplussed.  She  felt  intensely 
commonplace.  She  was  even  a  little  cross  with 
herself.  Why  had  she  asked  a  question? 

The  Arab  horse  now  took  it  into  his  head  to 
curvet  and  bound  in  the  air  for  no  apparent  reason, 
but  the  young  man  did  not  stir  an  inch — he  laughed. 

"Go  on,  my  beauty,"  he  said.  "I  like  you 
to  be  so.  It  shows  you  are  alive." 

As  they  approached  the  hotel,  Tamara  began 
to  hope  no  one  would  see  them.  No  one  who 
17 


HIS  HOUR 

could  tell  Millicent  that  she  had  a  companion. 
She  bent  down  and  said  rather  primly  to  the 
young  man  who  was  again  at  her  side: 

"I  am  quite  safe  now,  thank  you.  I  need  not 
trouble  you  any  further.  Good-bye!  and  I  am  so 
obliged  to  you  for  showing  me  a  new  way  home." 

He  looked  up  at  her,  and  his  whole  face  was 
lit  with  a  whimsical  smile. 

"Yes,  at  the  gate,"  he  said.  "Don't  be  ner- 
vous. I  will  go  at  the  gate." 

Tamara  did  not  speak,  and  presently  they 
came  to  the  turning  into  the  hotel.  Then  he 
stopped. 

"I  suppose  we  shall  meet  again  some  day," 
he  said.  "They  have  a  proverb  here,  'Meet 
before  dawn — part  not  till  dawn.'  They  see  into 
the  future  in  a  few  drops  of  water  in  any  hollow 
thing.  Well,  good-night" — and  before  she  could 
answer  he  was  off  beyond  the  hotel  up  the  road 
and  then  turning  to  the  right  on  a  sand-path, 
galloped  out  of  sight  into  what  must  be  the  vast 
desert. 

Where  on  earth   could  he  be  going  to? — pos- 
sibly the  devil — if  one  knew. 
18 


CHAPTER  II 


THEN  Tamara  woke  in  the  morning 
the  recollection  of  her  camel  ride 
seemed  like  a  dream.  She  sat  for 
a  long  time  at  the  window  of  her  room  looking 
out  toward  the  green  world  and  Cairo.  She 
was  trying  to  adjust  things  in  her  mind.  This 
stranger  had  certainly  produced  an  effect  upon  her. 

She  wondered  who  he  was,  and  how  he  would 
look  in  daylight — and  above  all  whither  he  had 
galloped  into  the  desert.  Then  she  wondered 
at  herself.  The  whole  thing  was  so  out  of  her 
line — so  bizarre — in  a  life  of  carefully  balanced 
proprieties.  And  were  the  thoughts  the  Sphinx 
had  awaked  in  her  brain  true?  Yes,  certainly 
she  had  been  ruled  by  others  always — and  had 
never  developed  her  own  soul. 

She    was    very    sensitive — that    last    whimsical 

smile  of  the  unknown  had  humiliated  her.     She 

felt    he   had   laughed   at   her   prim   propriety   in 

wishing  to  get  rid  of  him  before  the  gate.     Indeed, 

19 


HIS  HOUR 

she  suddenly  felt  he  might  laugh  at  a  good  many 
of  the  things  she  did.  And  this  ruffled  her  serenity. 
She  put  up  her  slender  hands  and  pushed  the  thick 
hair  back  'from  her  forehead  with  an  impatient 
gesture.  It  all  made  her  dissatisfied  with  her- 
self and  full  of  unrest. 

"You  don't  tell  me  a  thing  about  your  Sphinx 
excursion  last  night,  Tamara,"  Millicent  Hard- 
castle  said  at  breakfast,  rather  peevishly.  They 
were  sipping  coffee  together  in  the  latter's  room 
in  dressing-gowns.  "Was  it  nice,  and  had  the 
tourists  quite  departed?" 

"It  was  wonderful!"  and  Tamara  leant  back 
and  looked  into  distance.  "There  were  no  tour- 
ists, and  it  made  me  think  a  number  of  new  things 
— we  seem  such  ordinary  people,  Millicent." 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  glanced  up  surprised,  not  to 
say  offended,  with  coffee  cup  poised  in  the  air. 

"Yes — you  may  wonder,  but  it  is  true,  Milly — 
we  do  the  same  things  every  day,  and  think  the 
same  thoughts,  and  are  just  thoroughly  common- 
place and  uninteresting." 

"  And  you  came  to  these  conclusions  from  gazing 
at  the  Sphinx?"  Mrs.  Hardcastle  asked. 
20 


HIS  HOUR 

"Yes,**  said  Tamara,  the  pink  deepening  for  a 
moment  in  her  cheeks.  In  her  whole  life  she  hardly 
ever  had  had  a  secret.  "  I  sat  there,  Millicent,  in  the 
sand  opposite  the  strange  image,  and  it  seemed  to 
smile  and  mock  at  all  little  things;  it  appeared 
perfectly  ridiculous  that  we  pay  so  much  attention 
to  what  the  world  says  or  thinks.  I  could  not  help 
looking  back  to  the  time  when  you  and  I  were  at 
Dresden  together.  What  dull  lives  we  have  both 
led  since!  Yours  perhaps  more  filled  than  mine 
has  been,  because  you  have  children;  but  really  we 
have  both  been  browsing  like  sheep. " 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  now  was  almost  irritated. 

"I  cannot  agree  with  you,"  she  said.  "Our 
lives  have  been  full  of  good  and  pleasant  things — 
and  I  hope,  dear,  we  have  both  done  our  duty. " 

This,  of  course,  ended  the  matter!  It  was  so 
undoubtedly  true — each  had  done  her  duty, 

After  breakfast  they  started  for  a  last  donkey- 
ride,  as  they  must  return  to  Cairo  in  time  for  the 
Khedive's  ball  that  night,  which,  as  distinguished 
English  ladies,  they  were  being  taken  to  by  their 
compatriots  at  the  Agency.  Then  on  the  morrow 
they  were  to  start  for  Europe.  Mrs.  Hardcastle 


HIS  HOUR 

could  not  spare  more  time  away  from  her  babies. 
Their  visit  had  only  been  of  four  short  weeks,  and 
now  it  was  December  27,  and  home  and  husband 
called  her: 

For  Tamara's  part,  she  could  do  as  she  pleased; 
indeed,  for  two  pins  she  would  have  stayed  on  in 
Egypt. 

But  that  was  not  the  intention  of  fate! 

"Do  let  us  go  up  that  sand-path,  Millicent, "  she 
said,  when  they  turned  out  of  the  hotel  gate.  "  We 
have  never  been  there,  and  I  would  like  to  see 
where  it  leads  to — perhaps  we  shall  get  quite  a  new 
vista  from  the  top " 

And  so  they  went. 

What  she  expected  to  find  she  did  not  ask  herself. 
In  any  case  they  rode  on,  eventually  coming  out  at 
a  small  enclosure  where  stood  a  sort  of  bungalow 
in  those  days — it  is  probably  pulled  down  now,  but 
then  it  stood  with  a  wonderful  view  over  the  desert, 
and  over  the  green  world.  Tamara  had  vaguely 
observed  it  in  the  distance  before,  but  imagined 
it  to  be  some  water-tower  of  the  hotel,  it  was  so 
bare  and  gaunt.  It  had  been  built  by  some  mad 
Italian,  they  heard  afterward,  for  rest  and  quiet. 


HIS  HOUR 

It  was  a  quaint  place  with  tiny  windows  high  up, 
evidently  to  light  a  studio,  and  there  was  a  veranda 
to  look  at  the  view  towards  the  Nile. 

When  they  got  fairly  close  they  could  see  that 
on  this  veranda  a  young  man  was  stretched  at  full 
length.  A  long  wicker  chair  supported  him,  while 
he  read  a  French  novel.  They — at  least  Tamara — 
could  see  the  yellow  back  of  the  book,  and  also, 
one  regrets  to  add,  she  was  conscious  that  the 
young  man  was  only  clothed  in  blue  and  white 
striped  silk  pyjamas! — the  jacket  of  which  was 
open  and  showed  his  chest — and  one  foot,  stretched 
out  and  hanging  over  the  back  of  another  low  chair, 
was — actually  bare! 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  touched  her  donkey  and  hurried 
past — the  path  went  so  very  near  this  unseemly 
sight!  And  Tamara  followed,  but  not  before  the 
young  man  had  time  to  raise  himself  and  frown 
with  fury.  She  almost  imagined  she  heard  him 
saying  "Those  devils  of  tourists!"  Then  with  the 
corner  of  her  eye  ere  they  got  out  of  sight,  she  per- 
ceived that  a  blue-clad  Arab  brought  coffee  on  a 
little  tray. 

She  glowed  with  annoyance.  Did  he  think  she 
23 


HIS  HOUR 

had  come  to  look  at  him  ?  Did  he— he  certainly 
was  quite  uninterested,  for  he  must  have  recog- 
nized her;  but  perhaps  not;  people  look  so  different 
in  large  straw  hats  to  what  they  appear  with  scarves 
of  chiffon  tied  over  their  heads.  But  why  had  she 
come  this  way  at  all  ?  She  wished  a  thousand  times 
she  had  suggested  going  round  the  pyramids 
instead. 

"Tamara,"  said  Mrs.  Hard  castle,  when  they 
were  safely  descending  the  further  sand-path,  with 
no  unclothed  young  giant  in  view,  "did  you  see 
there  was  a  man  in  that  chair?  What  a  dreadful 
person  to  be  lying  on  the  balcony — undressed!" 

"I  never  noticed,"  said  Tamara,  without  a 
blush.  "I  am  surprised  at  you  having  looked, 
Millie — when  this  view  is  so  fine." 

"But,  my  dear  child,  I  could  not  possibly  help 
seeing  him.  How  you  did  not  notice,  I  can't  think; 
he  had  pyjamas  on,  Tamara — and  bare  feet!" 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  almost  whispered  the  last 
terrible  words. 

"I  suppose  he  felt  hot,"  said  Tamara;  "it  is  a 
grilling  day." 

"But  really,  dear,  no  nice  people,  in  any  weather, 
24 


HIS  HOUR 

remain — er — undressed  at  twelve  o'clock  in  the 
day  for  passers-by  to  look  at — do  they?" 

"Well,  perhaps  he  isn't  a  nice  person,"  allowed 
Tamara.  "He  may  be  mad.  What  was  he  like, 
since  you  saw  so  much,  Millicent  ? " 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  glanced  over  her  shoulder 
reproachfully.  "You  really  speak  as  though  I 
had  looked  on  purpose,"  she  said.  "He  seemed 
very  long — and  not  fat.  I  suppose,  as  his  hair  was 
not  very  dark,  he  must  be  an  Englishman." 

"Oh,  dear,  no!  exclaimed  Tamara.  "Not  an 
Englishman. "  Then  seeing  her  friend's  expression 
of  surprise,  "I  mean,  it  isn't  likely  an  Englishman 
would  lie  on  his  balcony  in  pyjamas — at  least  not 
the  ones  we  see  in  Cairo;  they — they  are  too  busy, 
aren't  they?" 

This  miserably  lame  explanation  seemed  to  sat- 
isfy Millicent.  It  was  too  hot  and  too  disagree- 
able, she  felt,  clinging  to  the  donkey  while  it 
descended  the  steep  path,  to  continue  the  subject 
further,  having  to  turn  one's  head  over  the 
shoulder  like  that;  but  when  they  got  on  the 
broad  level  she  began  again: 

"Possibly  it  was  a  madman,  Tamara,  sent  here 
25 


HIS  HOUR 

with  a  keeper — in  that  out-of-the-way  place.    How 
fortunate  we  had  the  donkey  boys  with  us!" 

Tamara  laughed. 

"You  dear  goose,  Millie,  he  couldn't  have 
eaten  us  up,  you  know;  and  he  was  not  doing 
the  least  harm,  poor  thing.  We  should  not  have 
gone  that  way;  it  may  have  been  his  private  path." 

"Still,  no  one  should  lie  about  undressed," 
Mrs.  Hardcastle  protested.  "It  is  not  at  all  nice. 
Girls  might  have  been  riding  with  us,  and  how 
dreadful  it  would  have  been  then.*' 

"Let  us  forget  it,  pet!"  Tamara  laughed, 
"and  trot  on  and  get  some  real  exercise." 

So  off  they  started. 

Just  as  they  were  turning  out  of  the  hotel  gate, 
late  in  the  same  afternoon,  a  young  man  on  an 
Arab  horse  passed  the  carriage.  He  was  in 
ordinary  riding  dress,  and  looked  a  slim,  graceful 
sight  as  he  trotted  ahead. 

He  never  glanced  their  way.  But  while  Tamara 
felt  a  sudden  emotion  of  sorts,  Mrs.  Hardcastle 
exclaimed: 

"Look,  look!     I  am  sure  that  is  he — the  mad- 
man who  wore  those  pyjamas." 
26 


CHAPTER  in 

S  ^m  *  HE  Khedive's  ball  was  a  fairly  fine  sight, 
M  ^«  Tamara  thought,  but  driving  through 
the  streets  took  such  a  ridiculously 
long  time,  the  crowd  was  so  great.  The  palace 
itself  was,  and  probably  is  still,  like  all  other 
palaces  that  are  decorated  in  that  nondescript 
style  of  Third  Empire  France — not  a  thing 
of  beauty.  But  the  levee  uniforms  of  the  offi- 
cers gavqp  an  air  of  brilliance  contrasted  with 
the  civilians  of  the  Government  of  Egypt.  Tamara 
thought  their  dress  very  ugly,  it  reminded  her 
of  a  clergyman's  at  a  children's  party,  where  he 
has  been  decorated  with  caps  and  sham  orders 
from  the  crackers  to  amuse  the  little  guests.  It 
seemed  strange  to  see  the  English  faces  beneath 
the  fez.  She  and  Millicent  Hardcastle  walked 
about  and  talked  to  their  friends.  There  were 
many  smart  young  gallants  in  the  regiments  then 
quartered  in  Cairo,  who  enjoyed  dancing  with 
the  slender,  youthful  widow  with  the  good  jewels 
3  27 


HIS  HOUR 

and  pretty  dress,  and  soon  Tamara  found  herself 
whirling  with  a  gay  hussar. 

"Let  us  stop  near  the  Royalties  and  look  at 
the  Russians,"  he  said.  "You  know,  a  Grand 
Duke  arrived  to-day,  and  must  be  here  to-night." 

They  came  to  a  standstill  close  to  the  little 
group  surrounding  the  Khedive,  and  amid  the 
splendid  uniforms  of  the  Grand  Duke's  suite  there 
was  one  of  scarlet,  the  like  of  which  Tamara  had 
never  seen  before. 

Afterward  she  learned  it  was  a  Cossack  of  the 
Emperor's  escort,  but  at  the  moment  it  seemed 
like  a  gorgeous  fancy  dress.  The  high  boots  and 
long,  strangely  graceful  coat,  cut  with  an  Eastern 
hang,  the  white  under-dress,  the  way  the  loose 
scarlet  sleeves  fell  at  the  wrist,  showing  the  white 
tight  ones,  the  gold  and  silver  trimmings  and 
the  arms,  stuck  in  the  quaint  belt,  all  pleased 
her  eye  extremely;  and  then  she  recognized  its 
wearer  as  the  young  man  of  the  Sphinx. 

How    dress    changes    a    person!     she  thought. 

He  looked  at  ease  now  in  this  gorgeous  garment, 

and  a  very  prince  for  a  fairy  tale.     That  accounted 

for  the  dreadful  gray  flannel — he  was  a  soldier 

28 


HIS  HOUR 

and  unaccustomed  to  wearing  ordinary  clothes; 
She  had  heard  that  in  foreign  countries  even  the 
officers  wore  their  uniforms  habitually;  not  as 
the  English  do,  merely  as  an  irksome  duty. 

He  did  not  appear  to  see  her,  but  when  she 
began  dancing  again,  and  paused  once  more  for 
breath,  she  was  close  to  him  as  he  stood  some  way 
apart  and  alone. 

Their  eyes  met.  His  had  the  same  whimsical 
provoking  smile  in  them  which  angered  and  yet 
attracted  her.  He  made  no  move  to  bow  to  her, 
nor  did  he  take  any  steps  to  be  introduced.  She 
burnt  with  annoyance. 

"He  might  at  least  have  been  presented;  it  is 
too  impertinent  otherwise!"  she  thought. 

She  knew  she  was  looking  her  best:  a  fair,  dis- 
tinguished woman  as  young  and  fresh  as  a  girl. 
Hardly  a  man  in  the  room  was  unconscious  of  her 
presence.  Anger  lent  an  extra  brightness  to  her 
eyes  and  cheeks.  She  went  on  dancing  wildly. 

The  next  time  she  was  near  the  stranger  was 
some  half  an  hour  later,  although  not  once  was 
she  able  to  banish  the  scarlet  form  from  her  view. 
He  did  not  dance.  He  talked  now  and  then  to 


HIS  HOUR 

his  Prince,  and  then  he  was  presented  to  the  offi- 
cial ladies,  with  the  rest  of  the  suite.  He  looked 
bored. 

Tamara'  would  not  ask  his  name,  which  she 
could  have  done  with  ease,  as  every  one  was  inter- 
ested in  the  Russians  and  glad  to  talk  about  them. 
She  avoided  the  English  group  of  bigwigs  where 
they  were  standing,  and  where  she  had  her  place — 
And  when  they  passed  the  tall  Cossack  again  she 
turned  upon  him  a  witheringly  unconscious 
glance. 

However,  this  was  not  to  continue  the  whole 
night,  for  presently  she  was  requested  by  one  of 
the  attache's  to  come  and  be  presented  to  the 
Grand  Duke,  and  when  she  had  made  her  curtsey 
the  suite  came  up  in  turn. 

"Prince  Milaslavski,"  and  she  heard  one  of 
his  friends  call  him  "Gritzko."  The  name  fell 
pleasantly  on  her  ears — '* Gritzko"!  Why  was 
he  such  a  wretch  as  to  humiliate  her  so?  She 
felt  horribly  small.  She  ought  never  to  have  let 
him  speak  to  her  at  the  Sphinx.  She  was  being 
thoroughly  punished  for  her  unconventionally 
now! 

30 


HIS  HOUR 

She  said  a  few  words  in  French  to  each  of 
the  others,  and  then,  as  he  still  stood  there  with 
that  provoking  smile  in  his  splendid  eyes,  she 
turned  away  almost  biting  her  lip  with  shame 
and  rage. 

Before  she  knew  it  she  was  dancing  with  a 
fierce  count  in  green  and  silver.  Their  conver- 
sation was  interesting. 

"You  are  here  since  long,  Madame?" 

"No,  Monsieur,  only  a  few  weeks,  and  I  go 
to-morrow." 

"Ah!  you  dance  beautifully!" 

"Do  I?    I  am  glad " 

The  Russian  Count  held  her  very  tightly,  and 
they  stopped  quite  out  of  breath,  where  the  screened 
windows  half-hid  the  poor  ladies  of  the  harem, 
who  watched  the  throng  from  their  safe  retreat 

The  Count  bowed — and  Tamara  bowed.  A 
section,  not  the  whole  dance,  was  evidently  the 
Russian  custom. 

Then  a  voice  said  close  to  her  ear: 

"May  I,  too,  have  the  honor  of  a  turn, 
Madame?"  and  she  looked  up  into  the  eyes  of 
the  Prince. 

31 


HIS  HOUR 

For  a  second  she  hesitated.  Her  first  impulse 
was  to  scornfully  say  no,  but  she  quickly  realized 
that  would  be  undignified  and  absurd;  so  she 
said  yes,  coldly,  and  let  him  place  his  arm  about 
her.  The  band  was  playing  a  particularly  sen- 
suous valse,  which  drove  all  young  people  mad 
that  year,  and — if  the  Count  had  danced  well — 
this  man's  movements  were  heaven.  Tamara  did 
not  speak  a  word.  She  purposely  did  not  look 
at  him,  but  drooped  her  proud  head  so  that  the 
flashing  diamonds  of  her  tiara  were  all  he  could 
have  seen  of  her. 

He  put  no  special  meaning  into  the  way  he 
held  her;  he  just  danced  divinely;  but  there  was 
something  in  the  creature  himself  of  a  perfectly 
annoying  attractiveness — or  so  it  seemed  to 
Tamara. 

They  at  last  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then 
he  spoke.  He  made  not  the  slightest  allusion  to 
the  Sphinx  incident.  He  spoke  gravely  of  Cairo, 
and  the  polo,  and  the  races,  and  said  that  his 
Grand  Duke  had  arrived  that  day.  He  was  not 
on  his  staff,  but  was  indeed  travelling  in  Egypt 
for  his  own  amusement  and  delectation,  he  said. 


HIS  HOUR 

He  had  been  there  since  November,  it  seemed,  and 
had  .been  up  the  Nile,  and  had  fortunately  been 
able  to  secure  a  little  bungalow  at  Mena,  where 
he  could  spend  some  hours  of  peace. 

Then  Tamara  laughed.  She  remembered  Milli- 
cent  Hardcastle's  consternation  over  those  unfor- 
tunate pyjamas.  She  wondered  if  Millicent  would 
realize  that  she — Tamara — was  dancing  with  their 
wearer  now!  When  she  laughed  he  put  his  arm 
around  her  once  more  and  began  dancing.  This 
time  he  held  her  rather  closely,  and  suddenly  as 
she  laughed  again  to  herself  provokingly,  he  clasped 
her  tight. 

"If  you  laugh  like  that  I  will  kiss  you — here  in 
the  room,"  he  said. 

Tamara  stopped  dead  short.  She  blazed  with 
anger. 

"How  dare  you  be  so  impertinent?"  she  said. 

They  were  up  in  a  corner;  everyone's  back 
was  turned  to  them  happily,  for  in  one  second  he 
had  bent  and  kissed  her  neck.  It  was  done  with 
such  incredible  swiftness  and  audacity  that  even 
had  they  been  observed  it  must  only  have  looked 
as  though  he  bent  to  pick  up  something  she  had 


HIS  HOUR 

dropped.  But  the  kiss  burned  into  Tamara's 
flesh. 

She  could  hardly  keep  the  tears  of  outraged 
pride  from  Jier  eyes. 

"How  dare  you!  How  dare  you!'*  she  hissed. 
"Truly  you  are  making  me  ashamed  of  having 
let  you  speak  to  me  last  night!" 

"Last  night?"  he  said,  while  he  forcibly  drew 
her  hand  within  his  arm  and  began  walking 
toward  the  group  of  her  friends.  "Last  night 
you  were  afraid  some  should  see  me  from  the  hotel, 
and  to-night  you  dare  me.  Do  it  once  more  and 
I  will  kiss  your  lips!" 

Tamara  went  dead  white;  she  felt  as  if  the 
ground  were  sinking  beneath  her  feet;  her  knees 
trembled.  In  all  her  smooth,  conventionally  or- 
dered life  she  had  never  experienced  such  a 
strong  emotion. 

The  Prince  glanced  at  her,  and  the  fierceness 
went  out  of  his  eyes.  He  bowed  gravely  with 
the  most  courtly  homage,  and  left  her  standing  by 
Millicent's  side. 

Then  Tamara  remembered  she  was  a  lady, 
and  that  tenue  was  expected  of  her;  so  she  turned 
34 


HIS  HOUR 

to  her  friend  gaily  and  said  how  she  was  enjoying 
the  ball;  but  her  fine  nostrils  quivered  at  intervals 
for  the  rest  of  the  night. 

"Thank  God!"  she  said  to  herself,  when  a 
few  hours  later  she  got  into  bed — " Thank  God! 
we  are  going  to-morrow.  I  shall  never  see  him 
again,  and  no  one  shall  ever  know." 


CHAPTER  IV 

day  they  started,  escorted  to  the 
station  by  a  troup  of  gushing  friends. 
Their  compartment  was  a  bower  of 
flowers,  and  as  each  moment  went  by  Tamara's 
equanimity  was  restored  by  the  thought  that  she 
would  soon  be  out  of  the  land  of  her  disgrace. 

It  is  a  tiresome  journey  to  Alexandria — dusty 
and  glaring  and  not  of  great  interest.  They  hurried 
on  board  the  ship  when  they  arrived,  without  even 
glancing  at  their  fellow  passengers  following  in  the 
gangway.  Neither  woman  was  a  perfect  sailor 
and  both  were  quite  overcome  with  fatigue.  It 
promised  to  be  a  disagreeable  night,  too,  so  they 
retired  at  once  to  their  cabins,  and  were  soon 
asleep. 

The  next  day,  which  was  Sunday,  the  wind  blew, 
but  by  the  afternoon  calmed  down  again,  and  Ta- 
mara  decided  to  dress  and  go  on  deck. 

"Mrs.  Hardcastle  went  up  some  hours  ago;  she 
was  ready  for  luncheon,  ma'am,"  her  maid  told  her. 
36 


HIS  HOUR 

"She  left  a  message  for  you  to  join  her  when  you 
woke." 

The  ship  was  the  usual  sort  of  ship  that  goes 
from  Alexandria  to  Trieste,  and  the  two  English 
ladies  had  secured  places  for  their  chairs  in  the 
most  protected  spot.  Tamara  rather  looked  for- 
ward to  being  able  to  sit  there  in  the  moonlight 
and  enjoy  the  Mediterranean. 

Her  maid  preceded  her  with  her  rug  and  cushion 
and  book,  and  it  was  not  until  she  was  quite  settled 
that  she  took  cognizance  of  an  empty  chair  at  her 
other  side. 

"You  lazy  child!"  Millicent  Hardcastle  said. 
"To  sleep  all  day  like  this!  It  has  been  quite 
beautiful  since  luncheon,  and  I  have  had  a  most 
agreeable  time.  That  extremely  polite  nice  young 
Russian  Prince  we  met  at  the  Khedive's  ball  is  here, 
dear;  indeed,  that  is  his  chair  next  you.  He  is 
with  Stephen  Strong.  We  have  been  talking  for 
hours." 

Tamara  felt  suddenly  almost  cold. 

"I  never  saw  him  in  the  train  or  coming  on 
board,"  she  said,  with  almost  a  gasp. 

"Nor  did  I,  and  yet  he  must  have  been  just 
37 


HIS  HOUR 

behind  us.  Our  places  at  meals  are  next  him, 
too.  So  fortunate  he  was  introduced,  because  one 
could  not  talk  to  a  strange  man,  even  on  a  boat. 
I  never  can  understand  those  people  who  pick  up 
acquaintances  promiscuously;  can  you,  dear  ?" 

"No,"  said  Tamara,  feebly. 

She  was  pondering  what  to  do.  She  could  not 
decline  to  know  the  Prince  without  making  some 
explanation  to  Millicent.  She  also  could  not 
flatter  him  so  much.  She  must  just  be  icily  cold, 
and  if  he  should  be  further  impertinent  she  could 
remain  in  her  cabin. 

But  what  an  annoying  contretemps!  And  she 
had  thought  she  should  never  see  him  again! — and 
here  until  Wednesday  afternoon,  she  would  be 
constantly  reminded  of  the  most  disgraceful  inci- 
dent in  her  career.  All  brought  upon  herself,  too, 
by  her  own  action  in  having  lapsed  from  the  rigid 
rules  in  which  Aunt  Clara  had  brought  her  up. 

If  she  had  not  answered  him  at  the  Sphinx — he 
could  not  have — but  she  refused  to  dwell  upon  tlie 
shame  of  this  recollection. 

She  had  quite  half  an  hour  to  grow  calm  before 
the  cause  of  her  unrest  came  even  into  sight,  and 
38 


HIS  HOUR 

when  he  did,  it  was  to  walk  past  in  the  company  of 
their  old  friend,  Stephen  Strong. 

The  Prince  raised  his  cap  gravely,  and  Tamara 
comforted  herself  by  noticing  again  how  badly 
his  clothes  fitted  him!  How  unsuitable,  and  even 
ridiculous,  they  were  to  English  eyes — That  gave 
her  pleasure!  Also  she  must  have  a  little  fun  with 
Millicent. 

"Has  it  struck  you,  Millie,  the  Prince  is  the 
same  young  man  we  saw  in  the  pyjamas  on  the 
veranda  ?  I  am  suprised  at  your  speaking  to  such 
a  person,  even  if  he  has  been  introduced!" 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  raised  an  aggrieved  head. 

"Really,  Tamara,"  she  said,  "I  had  altogether 
forgotten  that  unpleasant  incident.  I  wish  you 
had  not  reminded  me  of  it.  He  is  a  most  respect- 
ful, modest,  unassuming  young  man.  I  am  sure 
he  would  be  dreadfully  uncomfortable  if  he  were 
aware  we  had  seen  him  so." 

"I  think  he  looked  better  like  that  than  he  does 
now,"  Tamara  rejoined,  spitefully.  "Did  you 
ever  see  such  clothes  ?" 

Mrs.  Hardcastle  whisked  right  round  in  her 
chair  and  stared  at  her  friend.  She  was  shocked, 
39 


HIS  HOUR 

in  the  first  place,  that  Tamara  should  speak 
so  lightly  of  a  breach  of  decorum;  and,  secondly, 
she  was  astonished  at  another  aspect  of  the  case. 

"I  thought  you  never  saw  him  at  all  that  morn- 
ing!" she  exclaimed. 

Tamara  was  nettled. 

"Your  description  was  so  vivid;  besides,  I  looked 
back!" 

"You  looked  back!  Tamara!  after  I  had  told  you 
he  wasn't  dressed!  My  dear,  how  could  you?" 

"Well,  I  did. — Hush!  he  is  coming  toward  us," 
and  Tamara  hurriedly  opened  a  book  and  looked 
down. 

"At  last  Mrs.  Loraine  has  arrived  on  deck," 
she  heard  Millicent  say;  and  then,  for  convention's 
sake  she  was  obliged  to  glance  up  and  bow  coldly. 

The  young  man  did  not  seem  the  least  impressed ; 
he  sat  down  and  pulled  his  rug  round  his  knees  and 
gazed  out  at  the  sea.  The  sun  had  set,  and  the 
moon  would  soon  rise  in  all  her  full  glory. 

There  was  hardly  twilight  and  the  ship's  electric 

lights  were  already  being  lit.  The  old  Englishman, 

Stephen  Strong,  greeted  her  and  took  the  chair  at 

Mrs.  Hardcastle's  other  side.     That  lady  was  in 

40 


HIS  HOUR 

one  of  her  chatty  moods,  when  each  nicely  ex- 
pressed sentence  fell  from  her  lips  directly  after 
the  other — all  so  pleasant  and  easy  to  understand. 
No  one  ever  felt  with  Millicent  he  need  use  an 
atom  of  brain.  These  are  the  women  men  like. 

Tamara  pretended  to  read  her  book,  but  she 
was  conscious  of  the  near  proximity  of  the  Prince. 
Nothing  so  magnetic  in  the  way  of  a  personality 
had  ever  crossed  her  path  as  yet. 

He  sat  as  still  as  a  statue  gazing  at  the  sea.  An 
uncontrollable  desire  to  look  at  him  shook  Tamara, 
but  she  dominated  it.  The  discomfort  at  last 
grew  so  great  that  she  almost  trembled. 

Then  he  spoke: 

"  Have  you  cat's  eyes  ?  "  he  asked. 

Now,  when  there  was  a  legitimate  chance  to 
look  at  him,  she  found  her  orbs  glued  to  her  book. 

"Of  course  not!"  she  said,  icily. 

"Then  of  what  use  to  pretend  you  are  reading 
in  this  gloom  ?  The  miserable  lantern  is  not  good 
for  a  gleam." 

Tamara  was  silent.  She  even  turned  a  page. 
She  would  be  irritating,  too ! 

"That  ball  was  a  sight,"  he  continued.  "Did 
41 


HIS  HOUR 

you  see  the  harem  ladies  peeping  from  their 
cage?  They  looked  fat  and  ugly  enough  to  be 
wisely  kept  there.  What  a  lot  of  fools  they  must 
have  thought  us,  cavorting  for  their  amusement." 

"Poor  women!*'  said  Tamara.  Her  voice  was 
the  primmest  thing  in  voices  she  had  ever  heard. 

"Why  poor  women?"  he  asked.  "They  have 
all  the  pleasures  of  the  body,  and  no  anxieties; 
nothing  but  the  little  excitement  of  trying  now  and 
then  to  poison  their  rivals!  It  is  the  poor  Khedive! 
— Think  of  his  having  to  wade  through  all  that 
fat  mass  to  find  one  pretty  one!" 

The  tone  of  this  conversation  displeased  Tamara. 
She  did  not  wish  to  enter  into  the  ethics  of  the 
harem.  She  wished  he  would  be  silent  again,  only 
that  deep  voice  of  his  was  so  pleasant!  His  English 
was  wonderful,  too,  with  hardly  the  least  accent; 
and  when  she  did  allow  herself  to  look  at  him  she 
could  not  help  admiring  the  way  his  hair  grew, 
back  from  a  forehead  purely  Greek.  His  nose 
was  short  and  rather  square,  while  those  too  beau- 
tifully chiseled  lips  of  his  had  an  expression  of 
extraordinary  charm.  His  whole  personality 
breathed  attraction,  every  human  being  who 
42 


HIS  HOUR 

approached  him  was  conscious  of  it.  As  for  his 
eyes,  they  were  enormous,  with  broad  full  lids, 
mystical,  passionate,  and  yet  unconcerned.  Always 
they  suggested  something  Eastern,  though  on  the 
whole  he  was  fair.  Tamara's  own  soft  brown  hair 
was  only  a  shade  lighter  than  his. 

She  was  not  sure  yet,  but  now  thought  his  eyes 
were  gray. 

She  could  have  asked  him  a  number  of  questions 
she  wanted  answered,  but  she  refrained.  He 
suddenly  turned  and  looked  at  her  full  in  the  face. 
He  had  been  gazing  fixedly  at  the  sea,  and  these 
movements  of  quickness  were  disconcerting,  es- 
pecially as  Tamara  found  herself  caught  in  the  act 
of  studying  his  features. 

"What  on  earth  made  you  go  to  the  Sphinx?'* 
he  asked. 

Anger  rose  in  Tamara;  the  inference  was  not 
flattering,  in  his  speech,  or  the  tone  in  which  he 
uttered  it. 

"To  count  the  number  of  stones  the  creature  is 
made  of,  of  course,"  she  said.  "Those  technical 
things  are  what  one  would  go  for  at  that  time  of 
night." 

4  43 


HIS  HOUR 

And  now  her  companion  rippled  with  laughter, 
infectious,  joyous  laughter. 

"Ah,  you  are  not  so  stupid  as  I  thought!"  he 
said,  frankly.  "You  looked  poetic  and  fine  with 
that  gauze  scarf  round  your  head  sitting  there — 
and  then  afterwards.  Wheugh!  it  was  like  a  pretty 
wax  doll.  I  regretted  having  wasted  the  village  on 
you.  All  that  is  full  of  meaning  for  me. " 

Tamara  was  interested  in  spite  of  her  will  to 
remain  reserved,  although  she  resented  the  wax- 
doll  part. 

"Yes?"— she  faltered. 

"You  can  learn  ah1  the  lessons  you  want  in  life 
from  the  Sphinx,"  he  went  on.  "What  paltry 
atoms  you  and  I  are!  and  how  little  we  matter  to 
anyone  but  ourselves!  She  is  cruel,  too,  and  does 
not  hesitate  to  tear  one  in  pieces  if  she  wishes,  and 
she  could  make  one  ready  to  get  drunk  on  blood." 

Tamara  rounded  her  sweet  eyes. 

"Then  the  village  there,  full  of  men  with  the 
passions  of  animals,  living  from  father  to  son  for- 
ever the  same,  wailing  for  a  death,  rejoicing  at  a 
birth,  taking  strong  physical  pleasure  in  their 
marriage  rights  and  their  women,  and  beating 
44 


HIS  HOUR 

them  when  they  are  tired;  but  you  are  too  civilized 
in  your  country  to  understand  any  of  these  things. " 

Tamara  was  stirred;  she  felt  she  ought  to  be 
shocked. 

Contrary  to  her  determination,  she  asked  a 
question : 

"Then  you  are  not  civilized  in  yours?" 

"Not  nearly  so  badly,"  he  said.  "The  primitive 
forces  of  life  still  give  us  emotions,  when  we  are 
not  wild;  when  we  are  then  it  is  the  jolliest  hell." 

Tamara  was  almost  repulsed.  How  could  one 
be  so  odd  as  this  man?  she  thought.  Was  he  a 
type,  or  was  he  mad,  or  just  only  most  annoyingly 
attractive  and  different  from  any  one  else?  She 
found  herself  thrilled.  Then  with  a  subtle  change 
he  turned  and  almost  tenderly  wrapped  the  rug, 
which  had  blown  a  little  down,  more  securely 
round  her. 

"You  have  such  a  small  white  face,"  he  said, 
the  words  a  caress.  "One  must  see  that  you  are 
warm  and  the  naughty  winds  do  not  blow  you 
away." 

Tamara  shivered;  she  could  not  have  told  why. 

After  this  the  conversation  became  general. 
45 


HIS  HOUR 

Millicent  joined  in  with  her  obvious  remarks.  The 
sea  was  much  smoother;  they  would  be  able  to 
eat  some  dinner;  she  had  heard  there  was  a  gipsy 
troupe  on  board  in  the  third-class,  and  how  nice  it 
would  be  to  have  some  music! 

And  something  angered  Tamara  in  the  way  the 
Prince  assisted  in  all  this,  out-commonplacing  her 
friend  in  commonplaces  with  the  suavest  politeness, 
while  his  grave  face  betrayed  him  not  even  by  a 
twinkle  in  the  eye.  Only  when  he  caught  hers; 
then  he  laughed  a  sudden  short  laugh,  and  he 
whispered : 

"What  a  perfect  woman!  everything  in  the  right 
place.  Heaven !  at  the  best  times  she  would  do  her 
knitting,  and  hand  one  a  child  every  year!  I'll 
marry  when  I  can  find  a  wife  like  that ! " 

Tamara  was  furious.  She  resented  his  ridicule 
of  Millicent,  and  she  was  horrified  at  the  whole 
speech;  so,  gathering  her  rug  together,  she  said  she 
was  cold,  and  asked  Mr.  Strong  to  pace  the  deck 
with  her.  Nor  would  she  take  the  faintest  further 
notice  of  the  Prince,  until  they  all  went  below  to 
the  evening  meal. 

At  dinner  he  seemed  to  be  practically  a  stranger 
46 


HIS  HOUR 

again.  He  was  Tamara's  neighbor,  but  he  risked 
no  startling  speeches;  in  fact,  he  hardly  spoke  to 
her,  contenting  himself  with  discussing  seafaring 
matters  with  the  captain,  and  an  occasional  re- 
mark to  Stephen  Strong,  who  sat  beyond  Mrs. 
Hardcastle.  It  was  unnecessary  for  her  to  have 
decided  beforehand  to  snub  him;  he  did  not  give 
her  the  chance. 


,  CHAPTER  V 

ON  Monday  they  heard  they  would  arrive 
at  Brindisi  on  the  Tuesday  morning,  and 
Tamara  persuaded  Mrs.  Hardcastle  to 
agree  to  disembarking  there  instead  of  going  on  to 
Trieste. 

"We  shall  be  home  all  the  sooner,"  she  said. 
And  so  it  was  settled.  But  there  was  still  all  Mon- 
day to  be  got  through. 

It  was  a  perfect  day,  the  blue  Mediterranean 
was  not  belying  its  name.  Tamara  felt  in  great 
spirits,  as  she  came  on  deck  at  about  eleven  o'clock, 
to  find  Millicent  taking  a  vigorous  walk  round  and 
round  with  the  Russian  Prince.  They  seemed  to 
be  laughing  and  chattering  like  old  friends.  Again 
Tamara  resented  it. 

"He  is  only  making  fun  of  poor  Millie,"  she 
thought,  "who  never  sees  a  thing,"  and  she  settled 
herself  in  her  chair  and  let  her  eyes  feast  on  the 
blue  sea 

What  should  she  do  with  her  life?  This  taste 
48 


HIS  HOUR 

of  change  and  foreign  skies  had  unsettled  her. 
How  could  she  return  to  Underwood  and  the  hum- 
drum everyday  existence  there?  She  seemed  to 
see  it  mapped  out  on  a  plain  as  one  who  stood  on 
a  mountain.  She  seemed  to  realize  that  always 
there  had  been  dormant  in  her  some  difference 
from  the  others.  She  remembered  now  how  often 
she  perceived  things  that  none  of  them  saw,  and 
she  knew  it  was  because  of  this  that  it  had  grown 
into  a  habit  with  her  from  early  childhood  to  sup- 
press the  expression  of  her  thoughts,  and  keep 
them  to  herself — until  outwardly,  at  all  events, 
she  was  of  the  same  stolid  mould  as  her  family. 
The  dears!  they  could  not  help  it. 

But  about  one  point  she  was  determined.  She 
would  think  and  act  for  herself  in  future.  Aunt 
Clara's  frown  should  not  prohibit  any  book  or  any 
action.  The  world  should  teach  her  what  it  could. 

Tamara  had  received  a  solid  education;  now 
she  would  profit  by  it,  and  instead  of  letting  all 
her  knowledge  lie  like  a  bulb  in  a  root-house,  she 
would  plant  it  and  tend  it,  and  would  hope  to  see 
sweet  flowers  springing  forth. 

"Next  summer  I  shall  be  twenty-five  years  old," 
49 


HIS  HOUR 

she  said  to  herself,  "  and  the  whole  thing  has  been 
a  waste." 

Each  time  the  energetic  promenaders  passed 
her  chair  she  heard  a  few  words  of  their  conver- 
sation, on  hunting  often,  and  the  dogs,  and  the 
children,  Bertie's  cleverness,  and  Muriel's  chicken- 
pox,  but  always  the  Prince  seemed  interested  and 
polite. 

Presently  the  old  man,  Stephen  Strong,  came 
up  and  took  Mrs.  Hardcastle's  chair. 

"May  I  disturb  your  meditations P"  he  said. 
"You  look  so  wise." 

"No,  I  am  foolish,"  Tamara  answered.  "Now 
you  who  know  the  world  must  come  and  talk  and 
teach  me  its  meaning." 

He  was  rather  a  wonderful  old  man,  Stephen 
Strong,  purely  English  to  look  at,  and  purely  cos- 
mopolitan in  habits  and  We.  He  had  been  in  the 
diplomatic  service  years  ago,  and  had  been  in 
Egypt  in  the  gorgeous  Ismail  time;  then  a  fortune 
came  his  way,  and  he  traveled  the  earth  over. 
There  were  years  spent  in  Vienna  and  Petersburg 
and  Paris,  and  always  the  early  winter  back  in  the 
land  of  the  Sphinx. 

50 


HIS  HOUR 

"The  world,"  he  said,  as  he  arranged  himself 
in  the  chair,  "is  an  extremely  pleasant  place  if 
one  takes  it  as  it  is,  and  does  not  quarrel  with  it. 
One  must  not  be  intolerant,  and  one  must  not  be 
hypercritical.  See  it  all  and  make  allowances  for 
the  weakness  of  the  human  beings  who  inhabit  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Tamara,  "I  know  you  are  right; 
but  so  many  of  us  belong  to  a  tribe  who  think  their 
point  of  view  the  only  one.  I  do,  for  instance; 
that  is  why  I  say  I  am  foolish." 

The  walkers  passed  again. 

"There  is  a  type  for  you  to  study,"  Stephen 
Strong  said,  "Prince  MilaslaVski.  I  have  known 
him  for  many  years,  since  he  was  a  child  almost; 
he  is  about  twenty-nine  or  thirty  now,  and  really 
a  rather  interesting  personality." 

"Yes,"  said  Tamara,  honestly,  "I  feel  that. 
Tell  me  about  him?" 

Stephen  Strong  lit  a  cigar  and  puffed  for  a  few 
seconds,  then  he  settled  himself  with  the  air  of 
a  person  beginning  a  narrative. 

"He  came  into  his  vast  fortune  rather  too  young, 
and  lived  rather  fiercely.  His  mother  was  a 
Basmanoff ;  that  means  a  kind  of  Crcesus  in  Russia. 
51 


HIS  HOUR 

He  is  a  great  favorite  with  the  powers  that  be, 
and  is  in  the  Cossacks  of  the  Escort.  Something 
in  their  wild  freedom  appealed  to  him  more  than 
any  other  corps.  He  is  a  Cossack  himself  on  the 
mother's  side,  and  the  blood  is  all  rather  wild,  you 
know." 

Tamara  looked  as  she  felt — interested. 

"They  tell  the  most  tremendous  stories  about 
him,"  the  old  man  went  on,  "hugely  exaggerated, 
of  course;  but  the  fact  remains,  he  is  a  fascinating, 
restless,  dauntless  character." 

"What  sort  of  stories?"  asked  Tamara, 
timidly. 

"Not  all  fit  for  your  ears,  gentle  lady,"  laughed 
Stephen  Strong.  "Sheer  devilment,  mostly.  It 
was  the  amusement  in  the  beginning  to  dare  him 
to  anything,  the  maddest  feats.  He  ran  off  with 
a  nun  once,  it  is  said,  for  a  bet,  and  deposited  her 
in  the  house  of  the  man  she  had  loved  before  her 
vows  were  taken.  That  was  in  Poland.  Then 
he  has  orgies  sometimes  at  his  country  place,  when 
every  one  is  mad  for  three  days  on  end.  It  causes 
terrible  scandal.  Then  he  comes  back  like  a  lamb, 
and  purrs  to  all  the  old  ladies.  They  say  he  obeys 
5% 


HIS  HOUR 

neither  God  nor  the  Devil — only  the  Emperor  on 
this  earth." 

"How  dreadful!"  force  of  habit  made  Tamara 
say,  while  her  thoughts  unconsciously  ran  into 
interested  fascination. 

"He  is  absolutely  fearless,  and  as  cool  as  an 
Englishman,  and  there  are  not  any  mean  things 
told  about  him,  though,"  Steven  Strong  continued, 
"and  indeed  sometimes  he  lives  the  simplest 
country  life  with  his  horses  and  dogs,  and  his  own 
people  worship  him,  I  believe.  But  there  is  no 
wildest  prank  he  is  incapable  of  if  his  blood 
is  up." 

"I  think  he  looks  like  it,"  said  Tamara.  "Is  it 
because  he  habitually  wears  uniform  that  his  ordi- 
nary clothes  fit  so  badly?  To  our  eyes  he  seems 
dressed  like  some  commis  voyageur." 

"Of  course,"  said  Stephen  Strong.  "And  even 
in  Paris  I  don't  suppose  you  would  approve  of  him 
in  that  respect,  but  if  you  could  see  him  in  Peters- 
burg, then  I  believe  you  would  be  like  all  the  rest." 

"All  which  rest?"  asked  Tamara. 

"Women.  They  simply  adore  him.  Bohe- 
mians, great  ladies,  actresses,  dancers,  and '* 

53 


HIS  HOUR 

He  was  just  going  to  mention  those  of  another 
world,  when  he  felt  Tamara  would  hardly  under- 
stand him,  so  he  stopped  short. 

Something  in  her  rose  up  in  arms. 

"It  shows  how  foolish  they  are,"  she  said. 

Stephen  Strong  glanced  at  her  sideways,  and  if 
she  could  have  read  his  thoughts  they  were: 

"This  sweet  Englishwoman  is  under  Gritzko's 
spell  already,  and  how  she  is  battling  against  it! 
She  won't  have  a  chance,  though,  if  he  makes  up 
his  mind  to  win." 

But  Tamara,  for  all  her  gentle  features,  was  no 
weakling;  only  her  life  had  been  a  long  hiber- 
nation; and  now  the  spring  had  come,  and  soon 
the  time  of  the  finding  of  honey  and  a  new  life. 

"What  can  he  be  talking  about  to  my  friend, 
Mr.  Strong?"  she  asked,  as  the  two  passed  again. 
"Millicent  is  one  of  the  last  women  he  can  have 
anything  in  common  with;  she  would  simply  die 
of  horror  if  she  heard  any  of  these  stories — and  he 
can't  be  interested  in  a  word  she  says/* 

"He  always  does  the  unexpected,"  and  Stephen 
Strong  laughed  as  he  said  it.     He  himself  was 
amused  at  this  ill-matched  pair. 
54 


HIS  HOUR 

"Mrs.  Hardcastle  is  agreeable  to  look  at,  too," 
he  continued. 

Tamara  smiled  scornfully. 

"That  is  the  lowest  view  to  take.  One  should 
be  above  material  appearance." 

"Charming  lady!"  said  Stephen  Strong.  "Yes, 
indeed  you  do  not  know  the  world." 

Tamara  was  not  angry.  She  looked  at  him  and 
smiled,  showing  her  beautiful  teeth. 

"Of  course  you  think  me  a  goose,"  she  said, 
"but  I  warned  you  I  was  one.  Tell  me,  shall  I 
ever  grow  out  of  it — tell  me,  you  who  know?" 

"If  the  teacher  is  young  and  handsome  enough 
to  make  your  heart  beat,"  said  her  old  com- 
panion. And  then  Millicent  and  the  Prince  joined 
them. 

Mrs.  Hardcastle's  round  blue  eyes  were  flash- 
ing brightly,  and  her  fresh  face  was  aglow  with 
exercise  and  enjoyment. 

"Tamara  dear,  you  are  too  incorrigibly  lazy. 
Why  do  you  sit  here  instead  of  taking  exercise? 
and  you  have  no  idea  of  the  interesting  things  the 
Prince  has  been  telling  me.  All  about  a  Russian 
poet  called — oh,  I  can't  pronounce  the  name, 
55 


HIS  HOUR 

but  who  wrote  of  a  devil — not  exactly  Faust,  you 
know,  though  something  like  it." 

Tamara  noticed  that  amused,  whimsical,  mock- 
ing gleam  in  the  Cossack's  great  eyes,  but  Millicent 
went  gaily  on,  unconscious  of  anything  but  herself. 

"I  mean  those  mythical,  strange  sort  of  devils 
who  come  to  earth,  you  know,  and — and — make 
love  to  ladies — a  sort  of  Satan  like  in  Marie  Corelli's 
lovely  book.  You  remember,  Tamara,  the  one  you 
were  so  funny  about,  laughing  when  you  read  it." 

"You  mean  'The  Demon'  of  Lermontoff,  prob- 
ably, Millicent,  don't  you?"  Tamara  said.  "A 
friend  of  my  mother's  translated  it  into  English, 
and  I  have  known  it  since  I  was  a  child.  I  think 
it  must  be  very  fine  in  the  original,"  and  she 
looked  at  the  Prince. 

In  one  moment  his  face  became  serious  and 
sympathetic. 

"You  know  our  great  poet's  work,  then?"  he 
said,  surprised.  "  One  would  not  have  thought  it !" 

Then  again  Tamara's  anger  rose.     There  was 
always  the  insinuation  in  his  remarks,  seemingly 
unconscious,    and    therefore   the    more    irritating, 
that  she  was  a  commonplace  fool. 
56 


HIS  HOUR 

"Her  name — the  heroine's — is  the  same  as  my 
own,"  she  said,  gravely;  but  there  was  a  challenge 
in  her  eyes. 

"Tamara!"  he  said.  "Well — it  could  be — a 
devil  might  come  your  way,  but  you  would  kneel 
and  pray,  and  eat  bonbons,  and  not  listen  to 
him." 

"It  would  depend  upon  the  devil,"  she  said. 

"Those  who  live  the  longest  will  see  the  most," 
and  the  Prince  put  back  his  head  and  laughed 
with  real  enjoyment  at  his  thoughts,  just  as  he  had 
done  when  the  two  goats  had  butted  at  one  another 
in  the  road. 

Tamara  felt  her  cheeks  blaze  with  rage,  but  she 
would  not  enter  the  lists,  in  spite  of  the  late  chal- 
lenge in  her  eyes. 

Mr.  Strong  had  vacated  Millicent's  chair  and 
taken  his  own.  The  party  soon  settled  into  their 
legitimate  places,  and  Tamara  again  took  up  her 
book. 

"No,  don't  read,"  the  Prince  said.  "You  get 
angry  at  once  with  me  when  we  talk,  and  the  red 
comes  into  your  cheeks,  and  I  like  it." 

Exasperation  was  almost  uncontrollable  in 
57 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara.     She  remained  silent,  only  the  little  ear 
next  the  Prince  burned  scarlet. 

"Some  day  you  will  come  to  Russia,"  he  said, 
"and  then  you  will  learn  many  things." 

"I  have  no  desire  to  go  there,*'  said  Tamara, 
lying  frankly,  as  it  had  always  been  her  great  wish, 
and  indeed  her  godmother,  who  never  forgot  her, 
had  often  begged  her  to  visit  that  northern  clime; 
but  Russia! — as  well  have  suggested  the  moon  at 
Underwood. 

"It  would  freeze  you,  perhaps,  or  burn  you — 
who  can  tell?"  the  Prince  said.  "One  would  see 
when  you  got  there.  I  have  an  old  lady,  a  dear 
friend,  with  white  hair  and  a  mole  on  her  cheek — 
someone  who  sees  straight.  She  would  be  good 
for  your  education." 

Tamara  thought  it  would  be  wiser  not  to  show 
any  further  annoyance,  so  she  said  lightly: 

"Yes,  I  am  only  sixteen,  and  have  never  left 
the  schoolroom;  it  would  be  delightful  to  be  taught 
how  to  live." 

He  turned  and  smiled  at  her. 

"You  hardly  look  any  more — twenty,  perhaps, 
and — never  kissed!" 

58 


HIS  HOUR 

A  memory  rose  up  of  a  scorched  neck,  and  sud- 
denly Tamara's  long  eyelashes  rested  on  her  cheek. 

Then  into  his  splendid  eyes  came  a  fierce,  savage, 
passionate  gleam,  which  she  did  not  see,  but  dimly 
felt,  and  he  said  in  a  low  voice  a  little  thick: 

"And — as — yet — never  really  kissed.'* 

"Milly,"  said  Tamara,  as  calmly  as  she  could, 
"what  time  do  we  get  into  Brindisi  to-morrow 
morning?  And  think  of  it,  on  Thursday  night 
we  shall  be  at  home." 

Home  seemed  so  very  safe! 

The  Prince  did  not  come  in  to  luncheon,  some- 
thing was  the  matter  with  his  Arab  horse,  and  he 
had  gone  to  see  to  it  just  before — a  concern  on  his 
face  as  of  the  news  of  illness  to  his  nearest  kin. 

Tamara  was  gay  and  charming,  and  laughed  with 
Stephen  Strong  and  the  captain  in  quite  an  unusual 
way  for  her.  They  both  thought  her  an  adorable 
woman.  Poor  Tamara!  and  so  she  really  was. 

About  tea-time  Prince  Milasldvski  turned  up 
again. 

"He  is  all  right  now,"  he  said,  sure  that  his 
listeners  were  in  perfect  sympathy  with  him.  "It 
was  those  fools  down  there.  I  have  made  them 
5  59 


HIS  HOUR 

suffer,  I  can  say,"  and  then  he  turned  to  Stephen 
Strong.  "Among  the  steerage  there  is  an  Alex- 
andrian gipsy  troupe.  I  have  ordered  them  up  to 
sing  to  us  to-night,  since  Madame  wished  it,"  and 
he  turned  upon  Millicent  an  air  of  deep  devotion. 

"Common  ragged  creatures,  but  one  with  some 
ankles  and  one  with  a  voice.  In  any  case,  we 
must  celebrate  these  ladies'  last  night." 

And  thus  the  terrible  present  end  to  their  acquain- 
tance fell  about! 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  charming  than 
the  Prince  was  until  dinner-time,  and  indeed 
through  that  meal,  only  he  made  Stephen  Strong 
change  places  with  him,  so  that  he  might  be  next 
Mrs.  Hardcastie,  much  to  that  lady's  delight. 

"He  is  really  too  fascinating,"  she  said,  as  she 
came  into  Tajmara's  cabin  to  fetch  her  for  the  even- 
ing meal.  "I  hardly  think  Henry  would  like  his 
devotion  to  me.  What  do  you  think,  dear  ?" 

"I  am  sure  he  would  be  awfully  jealous,  Milly 
darling;  you  really  must  be  careful,"  Tamara  said. 
And  with  a  conscious  air  of  complacent  pleasantly 
tickled  virtue  Mrs.  Hardcastie  led  the  way  to  the 
saloon. 

60 


HIS  HOUR 

It  was  not  possible,  Tamara  thought,  that  any- 
thing so  terribly  unpleasant  as  the  Prince's  having 
too  much  champagne  at  dinner  could  have  ac- 
counted for  his  simply  scandalous  behavior  after; 
and  yet  surely  that  would  have  been  the  kindest 
thing  to  say.  But,  no,  it  was  not  that. 

This  was,  in  brief,  the  scene  which  was  enacted 
on  the  upper  deck: 

With  the  permission  of  the  captain,  the  gipsy 
troupe  were  brought,  and  began  their  performance, 
tame  enough  at  the  commencement  until  the  Prince 
gave  orders  for  them  to  be  supplied  with  unlimited 
champagne,  and  then  the  wildest  dancing  began. 
They  writhed  and  gesticulated  and  undulated  in  a 
manner  which  made  Millicent  cling  on  to  her  chair, 
grow  crimson  in  the  face,  and  finally  start  to  her 
feet. 

But  the  worst  happened  when  the  Prince  rose  and, 
taking  a  tambourine,  began,  with  a  weird  shriek,  to 
beat  it  wildly,  his  eyes  ablaze  and  his  lips  apart. 

Then,  seizing  the  chief  dancer  and  banging  it 
upon  her  head,  he  held  his  arm  about  her  heaving 
breast,  as  she  turned  to  him  with  a  serpentine 
movement  of  voluptuous  delight. 
61 


HIS  HOUR 

In  a  second  he  had  caught  hold  of  her  and  had 
lifted  and  swung  her  far  out  over  the  dark  blue 
waters,  then,  with  a  swirl  to  the  side,  held  her 
suspended  in  the  air  above  the  open  deck  below. 

"Ha,  ha!"  yelled  the  troupe,  in  frenzied  pleasure, 
and,  nimble  as  a  cat,  one  rough  dark  man  rushed 
down  the  ladder  and  caught  the  hanging  woman 
in  his  arms.  Then  they  all  clapped  and  cheered 
and  shrieked  with  joy,  while  the  Prince,  putting  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  pulled  out  heaps  of  gold  and 
flung  it  among  them. 

"Back  to  hell,  rats!"  he  shouted,  laughing. 
"See,  you  have  frightened  the  ladies.  You  should 
all  be  killed!" 

For  Tamara  and  Millicent  had  risen,  and  with 
stately  steps  had  quitted  the  scene. 

It  was  all  too  terrible  and  too  vulgarly  melodra- 
matic, Tamara  thought,  especially  that  touching 
of  the  woman  and  that  flinging  of  the  gold,  the 
latter  caused  by  the  same  barbaric  instinct  which 
made  him  throw  the  silver  in  the  Sheikh's  vil- 
lage by  the  moonlit  Sphinx,  only  this  was  worse  a 
thousandfold. 

The  next  morning  the  two  ladies  left  the  ship  at 
62 


HIS  HOUR 

Brindisi  before  either  the  Prince  or  Stephen  Strong 
was  awake.  Both  were  silent  upon  the  subject 
of  the  night  before,  until  Millicent  at  last  said  when 
they  were  in  the  train: 

"Tamara — you  won't  tell  Henry  or  your  family, 
will  you,  dear?  Because  really,  last  night  he  was 
so  fascinating — but  that  dancing!  I  am  sure  you 
feel,  with  me,  we  could  have  died  of  shame." 


^        CHAPTER  VI 

WEN  Tamara  reached  Underwood 
md  saw  a  letter  from  her  Russian 
godmother  among  the  pile  which 
awaited  her,  she  felt  it  was  the  finger  of  fate, 
and  when  she  read  it  and  found  it  contained  not 
only  New  Year's  wishes,  but  an  invitation  couched 
in  affectionate  and  persuasive  terms  that  she  should 
visit  St.  Petersburg,  she  suddenly,  and  without 
consulting  her  family,  decided  she  would  go. 

"There  is  something  drawing  me  to  Russia," 
she  said  to  herself.  "One  gets  into  the  current  of 
things.  I  felt  it  in  the  air.  And  why  should  I 
hesitate  now  I  am  free  ?  Why  should  I  not  accept, 
just  because  one  Russian  man  has  horrified  me.  It 
is,  I  suppose,  a  big  city,  and  perhaps  I  shall  never 
see  him  there." 

So  she  announced  her  decision  to  the  dum- 
founded  household,  and  in  less  than  a  week  took 
the  Nord  Express. 

"The  Court,  alas!  is  in  mourning," — her  god- 
64 


HIS  HOUR 

mother  had  written, — "so  you  will  see  no  splendid 
Court  balls,  but  I  daresay  we  can  divert  you  other- 
wise, Tamara,  and  I  am  so  anxious  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  my  godchild." 

The  morning  after  she  left  them  Aunt  Clara  ex- 
pressed herself  thus  at  breakfast: 

"I  see  a  great  and  most  unwelcome  change  in 
dear  Tamara  since  she  returned  from  Egypt,  I 
had  hoped  Millicent  Hardcastle  would  be  all  that 
was  steadying  and  well-balanced  as  a  companion 
for  her,  but  it  seems  this  modern  restlessness  has 
got  into  her  blood.  I  tremble  to  think  what  ideas 
she  will  bring  from  Russia.  Almost  savages 
they  are  there! — She  may  be  sent  to  Siberia  or 
something  dreadful,  and  we  may  never  see  her 
again." 

"Oh!  come  Aunt  Clara!"  Tom  Underdown 
protested,  as  he  buttered  his  toast.  "I  think  you 
are  a  little  behind  the  times.  There  is  a  Russian 
at  Oxford  with  me  and  he  is  the  decentest  chap  in 
the  world.  You  speak  as  though  they  almost  lived 
on  raw  fish!" 

"  My  dear  Tom, "  said  Miss  Underdown,  severely. 
"I  was  reading  only  yesterday,  in  the  'Christian 
65 


HIS  HOUR 

Clarion,'  how  one  of  their  Emperors  cut  off  every- 
one's head.  Dreadful  customs  they  have,  it  seems; 
and  one  of  their  Empresses — Catherine,  I  think 
her  name  was.  Well,  dear,  it  is  too  shocking  to 
.speak  of — and  most  people  were  sent  to  the  mines ! " 
"Oh!  hang  it  all,  Aunt  Clara,  you  can't  have 
looked  at  the  date!  You  can  hunt  up  just  those 
jolly  kind  of  stories  about  our  Henry  VIII.  if  you 
want  to,  you  know,  and  our  Elizabeth  wasn't  the 
saint  they  made  out.  And  as  for  Siberia,  I  am 
going  there  myself  some  day,  on  the  Trans-Siberian 
Hailway.  Tamara  will  be  all  right.  I  wish  to 
leavens  she  had  taken  me  with  her.  We  have  got 
dry  rot  in  this  house,  that  is  what  is  the  matter 
with  us!" 

"  Tom ! "  almost  gasped  Miss  Underdown.  "  Your 
manners  are  extremely  displeasing,  and  the  tone 
of  your  remarks  is  far  from  what  one  could  wish!" 
Meanwhile  Tamara  was  speeding  on  her  way  to 
the  North,  her  interest  and  excitement  in  her  jour- 
ney deepening  with  each  mile. 

The  snow  and  the  vast  forests  impressed  her 
from  the  train  windows.     Every  smallest  shade 
made  its  effect  upon  her  brain.    Tamara  was  sen- 
66 


HIS  HOUR 

sitive  to  all  form  and  color.  She  was  a  person  who 
apprehended  things,  and  from  the  habit  GJ  keeping 
all  her  observations  to  herself  perhaps  the  faculty 
of  perception  had  grown  the  keener. 

The  silence  seemed  to  be  the  first  thing  she 
remarked  on  reaching  the  frontier.  The  porters 
were  so  grave  and  quiet,  with  their  bearded  kindly 
faces,  many  of  them  like  the  saints  and  Biblical 
characters  in  Sunday-school  picture  books  at  home. 

And  finally  she  arrived  at  St.  Petersburg,  and 
found  her  godmother  waiting  for  her  on  the  plat- 
form. They  recognized  each  other  immediately. 
Tamara  had  several  photographs  of  the  Princess 
Ardacheff. 

"Welcome,  ma  filleule,"  that  lady  cried,  while 
she  shook  her  hand.  "After  all  these  years  I  can 
have  you  in  my  house." 

They  said  all  sorts  of  mutually  agreeable  things 
on  their  way  thither,  and  they  looked  at  each  other 
shyly. 

"She  is  not  beautiful,"  ran  the  Princess*  com- 
ments. "Though  she  has  a  superb  air  of  breeding 
— that  is  from  her  poor  mother — but  her  eyes  are 
her  father's  eyes.  She  is  very  sweet,  and  what  a 
67 


HIS  HOUR 

lovely  skin — yes,  and  eyelashes — and  probably  a 
figure  when  one  can  see  beneath  the  furs — tall  and 
very  slender  in  any  case.  Yes,  I  am  far  from  dis- 
appointed-»-far.  " 

And  Tamara  thought: 

"My  godmother  is  a  splendid  looking  lady!  I 
like  her  bright  brown  eyes  and  that  white  hair;  and 
what  a  queer  black  mole  upon  her  left  cheek,  like 
an  early  eighteenth-century  beauty  spot.  Where 
have  I  heard  lately  of  someone  with  a  mole ? 

"  You  fortunately  see  our  city  with  a  fresh  mantle 
of  snow,  Tamara, "  the  Princess  said,  glancing 
from  the  automobile  window  as  they  sped  along. 
"It  is  not,  alas!  always  so  white  as  this." 

It  appeared  wonderful  to  Tamara — so  quite 
unlike  anything  she  had  imagined.  The  tiny 
sleighs  seemingly  too  ridiculously  small  for  the 
enormously  padded  coachman  on  the  boxes — the 
good  horses  with  their  sweeping  tails — 'the  unusual 
harness.  And,  above  all,  again  the  silence  caused 
by  the  snow. 

Her  first  remark  was  almost  a  childish  one  of 
glee  and  appreciation,  and  then  she  stopped  short. 
What  would  her  godmother  think  of  such  an  out- 
68 


HIS  HOUR 

burst!  She  must  return  to  the  contained  self- 
repression  of  the  time  before  her  visit  to  the  Sphinx 
— surely  in  this  strange  land! 

The  Princess  ArddchefFs  frank  face  was  illu- 
minated with  a  smile. 

"She  is  extremely  young,"  she  thought,  "in  spite 
of  her  widowhood,  but  I  like  her,  and  I  know  we 
shall  be  friends. " 

Just  then  they  arrived  at  her  house  in  the  Ser- 
guiefskaia.  It  had  not  appeared  to  Tamara  that 
they  were  approaching  any  particularly  fashionable 
quarter.  A  fine  habitation  seemed  the  neighbor 
of  quite  a  humble  one,  and  here  there  was  even  a 
shop  a  few  doors  down,  and  except  for  the  very  tall 
windows  there  was  nothing  exceptionally  imposing 
on  the  outside.  But  when  they  entered  the  first 
hall  and  the  gaily-liveried  suisse  and  two  footmen 
had  removed  their  furs,  and  the  Princess'  snow 
boots,  then  Tamara  perceived  she  was  indeed  in  a 
glorious  home. 

Princess  Arddcheff's  house  was,  and  is,  perhaps 
the  most  stately  in  all  Petersburg. 

As  they  ascended  the  enormous  staircase  dividing 
on  the  first  landing,  and  reaching  the  surrounding 
69 


HIS  HOUR 

galleries  above  in  two  sweeps,  a  grave  major-domo 
and  more  footmen  met  them,  and  opened  wide  the 
doors  of  a  lofty  room.  It  was  full  of  fine  pictures 
and  objets1  d'art,  and  though  the  furniture  dated 
from  the  time  of  Alexander  II.,  and  even  a  little 
earlier — when  a  flood  of  frightful  taste  pervaded 
all  Europe — still  the  stuffs  and  the  colors  were 
beautiful  and  rich,  and  time  had  softened  their 
crudity  into  a  harmonious  whole. 

Be  the  decorations  of  a  house  what  they  will,  it 
is  the  mistress  of  it  who  gives  the  rooms  their  soul. 
If  hers  is  vulgar,  so  will  the  rooms  be,  even  though 
Monsieur  Nelson  himself  has  but  just  designed 
them  in  purest  Louis  XVI.  But  the  worst  of  all 
are  those  which  look  as  though  their  owner  con- 
stantly attended  bazaars,  and  brought  the  super- 
fluous horrors  she  secured  there  back  with  her. 
Then  there  are  vapid  rooms,  and  anaemic  rooms, 
and  fiddly,  and  messy  rooms,  and  there  are 
monuments  of  wealth  with  no  individuality 
at  all. 

Tamara  felt  all  these  nuances  directly,  and  she 
knew  that  here  dwelt  a  woman  of  natural  refine- 
\rwsnt  and  a  broad  outlook. 
70 


HIS  HOUR 

She  sank  into  an  old-fashioned  sofa,  covered 
with  silk  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  and  the  atmos- 
phere seemed  to  breathe  life  and  completeness. 

Tea  and  quantities  of  different  little  bonnes 
bouches  awaited  them.  But  if  there  was  a  samovar 
she  did  not  recognize  it  as  such;  in  fact,  she  had 
seen  nothing  which  many  writers  describe  as 
"Russian." 

The  Princess  talked  on  in  a  fashion  of  perfect 
simplicity  and  directness.  She  told  her  that  her 
friends  would  all  welcome  her  and  be  glad  that  an 
Englishwoman  should  really  see  their  country,  and 
find  it  was  not  at  all  the  grotesque  place  which 
fancy  painted  it. 

"We  are  so  far  away  that  you  do  not  even 
imagine  us,"  she  said.  "You  English  have  read 
that  there  was  an  Ivan  the  Terrible  and  a  Peter  the 
Great,  who  crushed  through  your  Evelyn's  hedges, 
and  was  a  giant  of  seven  foot  high!  Many  of  you 
believe  wolves  prowl  in  the  streets  at  night,  and 
that  among  the  highest  society  Nihilists  stalk, 
disguised  as  heaven  knows  what!  While  the  .sud- 
den disappearance  of  a  member  of  any  great  or 
small  family  can  be  accounted  for  by  a  nocturnal 
71 


HIS  HOUR 

visit  of  police,  and  a  transportation  in  chains  to 
Siberian  mines !    Is  it  not  so,  Tamara  ?  " 

Tamara  laughed.  "Yes,  indeed,"  she  said. 
"I  am  sure  that  is  what  Aunt  Clara  thinks 
now!  Are  we  not  a  ridiculously  insular  people, 
Marraine?" 

She  said  the  last  word  timidly  and  put  out  her 
hand.  "May  I  call  you  Marraine,  Princess?" 
she  asked.  "I  never  knew  my  mother,  and  it 
sounds  nice." 

"Indeed,  yes!"  the  Princess  said,  and  she  rose 
and  kissed  Tamara.  "Your  mother  was  very 
dear  to  me,  long  ago,  before  you  were  born,  we  spent 
a  wild  season  together  of  youth  and  happiness. 
You  shall  take  the  place  of  my  child  Tamara,  if 
she  had  lived." 

Before  they  had  finished  drinking  their  tea,  other 
guests  came  in — a  tall  old  General  in  a  beautiful 
uniform,  and  two  ladies,  one  young  and  the  other 
old.  They  all  spoke  English  perfectly,  and  were 
so  agreeable  and  sans  fopon,  Tamara's  first  impres- 
sion was  distinctly  good. 

Presently  she  heard  the  elder  lady  say  to  her 
godmother: 

72 


HIS  HOUR 

"H%ve  you  seen  Gritzko  since  his  return,  Vera? 
One  hears  he  has  a  wild  fit  on  and  is  at  Milaslav 
with "  the  rest  of  the  words  were  almost  whis- 
pered. Tamara  found  herself  unpleasantly  on  the 
alert — how  ridiculous,  though,  she  thought — Gritz- 
ko!— there  might  be  a  dozen  Gritzkos  in  Peters- 
burg. 

"No,  he  returns  to-night,"  Princess  Arddcheff 
said;  "but  I  never  listen  to  these  tales,  and  as  no 
matter  what  he  does  we  all  forgive  him,  and  let 
him  fly  back  into  our  good  graces  as  soon  as  he 
purses  up  that  handsome  mouth  of  his — it  is 
superfluous  to  make  critiques  upon  his  conduct — 
it  seems  to  me!" 

The  lady  appeared  to  agree  to  this,  for  she 
laughed,  and  they  talked  of  other  things,  and  soon 
all  left. 

And  when  they  were  gone — "To-night  I  have 
one  or  two  of  my  nicest  friends  dining,"  the  Prin- 
cess said,  "whom  I  wish  you  to  know,  so  I  thought 
if  you  rested  now  you  would  not  be  too  tired  for  a 
little  society,"  and  she  carried  Tamara  off  to  her 
warm  comfortable  bedroom,  an  immense  apart- 
ment in  gorgeous  Empire  taste,  and  here  was  a 
73 


HIS  HOUR 

great  bunch  of  roses  to  greet  her,  and  her  maid 
could  be  seen  unpacking  in  the  anti-chamber 
beyond. 

The  company,  ten  or  twelve  of  them,  were  all 
assembled  when  Tamara  reached  one  of  the  great 
salons,  which  opened  from  the  galleries  surround- 
ing the  marble  hall.  She  came  in — a  slender  wil- 
lowy creature,  with  a  gentle  smile  of  contrition- 
was  she  late? 

And  then  the  presentations  took  place.  What 
struck  her  first  was  that  dark  or  fair,  fat-faced  or 
thin,  high  foreheads  or  low,  all  the  ladies  wore 
coiffees  exactly  the  same — the  hair  brushed  up  from 
the  forehead  and  tightly  anduUs.  It  gave  a  look  of 
universal  distinction,  but  in  some  cases  was  not 
very  becoming.  They  were  beautifully  dressed  in 
mourning,  and  no  one  seemed  to  have  much  of  a 
complexion,  from  an  English  point  of  view,  but 
before  the  end  of  the  evening  Tamara  felt  she  had 
never  met  women  with  such  charm.  Surely  no 
other  country  could  produce  the  same  types,  per- 
fectly simple  in  manner — perfectly  at  ease.  Ex- 
tremely highly  educated,  with  a  wide  range  of 
subjects,  and  a  knowledge  of  European  literature 
74 


HIS  HOUR 

whieh  must  be  unsurpassed.  Afterwards  when  she 
knew  them  better  she  realized  that  here  was  one 
place  left  in  Europe  where  there  were  no  parvenues 
and  no  snobs — or  if  there  were  any,  they  were 
beautifully  concealed.  Such  absolute  simplicity 
and  charm  can  only  stay  in  a  society  where  no  one 
is  trying  "to  arrive,"  all  being  there  naturally  by 
birth.  There  could  be  no  room  for  the  metier 
adopted  by  several  impecunious  English  ladies  of 
title — that  of  foisting  anyone,  however  unsuitable, 
upon  society  and  their  friends  for  a  well-gilded 
consideration. 

In  Russia,  at  least,  it  is  the  round  peg  in  the 
round  hole.  No  square  peg  would  have  a  chance 
of  admission.  Thus  there  are  the  ease  and  ele- 
gance of  one  large  and  interesting  family. 

It  seemed  to  Tamara  that  each  one  was  endowed 
with  natural  fascination.  They  made  no  "frais" 
for  her.  There  were  no  compliments  or  gushing 
welcomes.  They  were  just  casual  and  delightful 
and  made  her  feel  at  home  and  happy  with  them 
all. 

They  took  "Zacouska"  in  an  ante-room.  Such 
quantities  of  strange  dishes !  There  seemed  enough 
6  75 


HIS  HOUR 

for  a  whole  meal,  and  Tamara  wondered  how  it 
would  be  possible  to  eat  anything  further!  At 
dinner  she  sat  between  a  tall  old  Prince  and  a 
diplomat.  The  uniforms  pleased  her  and  the 
glorious  pearls  of  the  ladies.  Such  pearls — worth 
a  king's  ransom! 

Then  she  was  interested  to  see  the  many  differ- 
ent sorts  of  wine,  and  the  extreme  richness  of  the 
food,  and  finally  the  shortness  of  the  meal. 

The  pretty  custom  of  the  men  kissing  the  hostess* 
hand  as  they  all  left  the  dining-room  together, 
she  found  delightful. 

They  were  drinking  coffee  in  the  blue  salon,  and 
most  of  the  party  had  retired  to  the  bridge  tables 
laid  out,  and  Tamara,  who  played  too  badly,  sat  by 
the  fire  with  her  godmother  and  another  lady,  when 
suddenly  the  door  opened  and,  with  an  air  of  com- 
plete insouciance  and  assurance,  Prince  Milas- 
laVski  came  in. 

"I  want  some  coffee,  Tantine,'*  he  said,  kissing 
the  Princess*  hand,  while  he  nodded  to  everyone 
else.  "I  was  passing  and  so  came  in  to  get  it." 

"Gritzko — back  again!'*  the  whole  company 
cried,  and  the  Princess,  beaming  upon  him  fond 
76 


HIS  HOUR 

smiles,  gave  him  the  coffee,  while  she  murmured 
her  glad  welcome. 

The  society  now  began  to  chaff  him  as  to  his 
doings,  which  he  took  with  the  utmost  sang  froid. 

"That  old  cat  of  a  Marianne  Mariuski  sets  about 
as  usual  one  of  her  stories.  I  am  having  an  orgie 
at  MilaslaV,  and  this  time  with  a  seraglio  of  Egyp- 
tian houris — the  truth  being  I  only  brought  back 
by  the  merest  chance  one  small  troupe  of  Alexan- 
drian dancers,  and  two  performing  bears.  They 
made  us  laugh  for  three  days,  Serge,  Sasha,  and 
the  rest!" 

"  Gritzko,  will  you  'never  learn  wisdom,"  said 
one  lady,  the  Princess  She'banoff,  plaintively, 
while  the  others  all  laughed.  "Were  they  pretty, 
and  what  were  they  like  ?"  they  asked. 

"  The  bears  ? — little  angels,  especially  Fatima, — 
and  with  the  manners  of  Princesses,"  and  he  bowed 
to  an  old  lady  who  was  surveying  him  severely 
through  her  pince-nez,  while  she  held  her  cards 
awry.  "Which  reminds  me  we  are  failing  in  ours, 
Tantine,  you  have  not  presented  me  to  the  English- 
lady,  who  is,  I  perceive,  a  stranger." 

During  all  this  Tamara  had  sat  cold  and  silent^ 
77 


HIS  HOUR 

She  was  angry  with  herself  that  this  man's  entrance 
should  cause  her  such  emotion — or  rather  com- 
motion and  sensation.  Why  should  he  make  her 
feel  nervous'  and  stupid,  unsure  of  herself,  and 
uncertain  what  to  do.  Invariably  he  placed  her 
at  some  disadvantage,  and  left  the  settling  of  their 
relations  to  himself.  Whereas  all  such  regulations 
ought  to  have  been  in  her  hands.  Now  she  was 
without  choice  again,  she  could  only  bow  stiffly  as 
her  godmother  said  his  name  and  her  name,  and 
Prince  Milaslavski  took  a  chair  by  her  side  and 
began  making  politenesses  as  though  he  were 
really  a  stranger. 

Had  she  just  arrived  ?  Did  she  find  Russia  very 
cold  P  Was  she  going  to  stay  long  ?  etc.,  etc. 

To  all  of  which  Tamara  answered  in  mono- 
syllables, while  two  bright  spots  of  rose  color 
burned  in  her  cheeks. 

The  Prince  was  astonishingly  good  looking  in  his 
Cossack's  uniform,  and  his  eyes  had  a  laugh  in 
them,  but  a  shadow  round  as  if  bed  had  not  seen 
him  for  several  nights. 

His  whole  manner  to  Tamara  was  different 
from  any  shade  it  had  formerly  worn.  It  was  as 
78 


HIS  HOUR 

if  a  courtly  Russian  were  welcoming  an  honored 
guest  in  his  aunt's  house. 

He  did  not  mock  or  tease,  or  announce  startling 
truths;  he  was  pleasant  and  ordinary  and  serene. 

He  and  the  Princess  Ard&cheff  were  no  real 
blood  relations;  the  first  wife  of  her  late  husband 
had  been  his  mother's  sister,  but  the  tradition  of 
aunt  had  gone  on  in  the  family  and  the  Princess 
loved  him  almost  as  a  son.  He  had  always  called 
her  "Tantine"  as  though  she  had  been  his  real 
aunt. 

"What  did  you  think  of  Gritzko  Milasldvski,, 
Tamara  ?"  she  asked,  when  all  the  guests  were  gone, 
and  the  two  had  retired  to  Tamara's  room.  "He 
is  one  of  the  dearest  characters  when  you  know  him 
— but  a  terrible  tease." 

"  He  seemed  very  pleasant,"  Tamara  said  blankly, 
while  she  picked  up  a  book.  Even  to  speak  of 
him  caused  her  unease. 

"He  is  not  at  all  the  type  of  an  ordinary  Rus- 
sian," the  Princess  continued.  "He  has  traveled 
so  much,  he  is  so  fin  there  is  almost  a  French  touch 
in  him.  I  am  afraid  you  will  find  our  young  men 
rather  dull  as  a  rule.  They  are  very  hard  worked 
79 


HIS  HOUR 

at  their  military  duties,  and  have  not  much  time 
for  les  dames  du  monde." 

"No?"  said  Tamara.  "Well,  the  women  seem 
to  make  up  for  it.  I  have  never  met  so  many  clever 
delightful  ones." 

"It  is  our  education,"  the  Princess  said.  "You 
see  from  babyhood  we  learn  many  languages,  and 
thus  the  literatures  of  countries  are  open  to  us 
before  we  begin  to  analyze  anything,  and  English 
especially  we  know  well,  because  in  that  language 
there  are  so  many  books  for  young  girls." 

"In  England,"  said  Tamara,  "what  may  be 
given  to  young  girls  seems  to  rule  everything,  no 
one  is  allowed  a  thought  for  herself,  every  idea 
almost  is  brought  down  to  that  dead  level — one 
rebels  after  a  while — but  tell  me,  Marraine,  if  I 
may  ask,  what  makes  them  all  so  tired  and  gray 
looking,  the  people  I  have  seen  to-night  I  mean. 
Do  they  sit  up  very  late  at  parties,  or  what  is  it  ?'* 

"In  the  season,  yes,  but  it  is  not  that,  it  is  our 
climate  and  our  hot  closed-up  rooms,  and  the 
impossibility  of  taking  proper  exercise.  In  the 
summer  you  will  not  know  them  for  the  same 
faces." 

80 


HIS  HOUR 

And  then  she  kissed  her  goddaughter  good-night, 
but  just  at  the  door  she  paused.  "You  were  not 
shocked  about  the  Alexandrian  dancers,  I  hope, 
child?"  she  said.  "If  one  knew  the  truth,  they 
were  poor  people  who  were  starving,  probably, 
and  Gritzko  paid  them  money  and  helped  them 
out  of  the  kindness  of  his  heart — those  are  the 
sort  of  things  he  generally  does  I  find  when  I 
investigate,  so  I  never  pay  attention  to  what  he 
says." 

Tamara,  left  to  herself,  gazed  into  the  glowing 
embers  of  her  wood  fire. 

"I  wonder — I  wonder,"  she  said.  But  what 
she  wondered  she  hardly  dared  admit — even  ta 
herself. 


CHAPTER  VH 

P"R  next  day  was  the  last  of  the  Russian 
old  year — the  13th  of  January  new  style 
— and  w^ien  Tamara  appeared  about  ten 
o'clock  in  her  godmother's  own  sitting-room,  a 
charming  apartment  full  of  the  most  interesting 
miniatures  and  bibelots  collected  by  the  great 
Ardacheff,  friend  of  Catherine  II.,  she  found  the 
Princess  already  busy  at  her  writing  table. 

"Good-morning,  my  child,"  she  said.  "You 
behold  me  up  and  working  at  a  time  when  most  of 
my  countrywomen  are  not  yet  in  their  baths.  We 
keep  late  hours  here  in  the  winter,  while  it  is  dark 
and  cold.  You  will  get  quite  accustomed  to  going 
to  bed  at  two  and  rising  at  ten;  but  to-night,  if  it 
pleases  you  to  fall  in  with  what  is  on  the  tapis  for 
you,  I  fear  it  will  be  even  four  in  the  morning  before 
you  sleep.  Prince  Milaslavski  has  telephoned  that 
he  gives  a  party  at  his  house  on  the  Foutonka,  to 
dine  first  and  then  go  on  to  a  caf  6  to  hear  the  Bohe- 
mians sing.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  place  these 
82 


HIS  HOUR 

Bohemians — we  shall  drink  in  the  New  Year  and 
then  go.  It  will  not  bore  you.  No  ?  Then  it  is 
decided,"  and  she  pressed  a  lovely  little  Faberger 
enamel  bell  which  lay  on  the  table  near,  and  one 
of  the  innumerable  servants,  who  seemed  to  be 
always  waiting  in  the  galleries,  appeared.  She 
spoke  to  him  in  Russian,  and  then  took  up  the 
telephone  by  her  side,  and  presently  was  in  com- 
munication with  the  person  she  had  called. 

"It  is  thou,  Gritzko?  Awake?  Of  course  she 
is  awake,  and  here  in  the  room.  Yes,  it  is  arranged 
— we  dine — not  until  nine  o'clock? — you  cannot 
be  in  before.  Bon.  Now  promise  you  will  be 
good. — Indeed,  yes. — Of  course  any  English  lady 
would  be  shocked  at  you — So ! — I  tell  you  she  is  in 
the  room — pray  be  more  discreet,"  and  she  smiled 
at  Tamara,  and  then  continued  her  conversation. 
"No,  I  will  not  talk  in  Russian,  it  is  very  rude. — If 
you  a»e  not  completely  sage  at  dinner  we  shall 
not  go  on. — I  am  serious!  Well,  good-bye," — 
and  with  a  laugh  the  Princess  put  the  receiver 
down. 

"He  says  nothing  would  shock  you — he  is  sure 
you  understand  the  world!  Well,  we  must  amuse 
83 


HIS  HOUR 

ourselves,  and  try  and  restrain  him  if  he  grows  too 
wild." 

"He  is  often  wild,  then  ?"     Tamara  said. 

The  Princess  rose  and  stood  by  the  window 
looking  out  on  the  thickly  falling  snow. 

"I  am  afraid — a  little — yes,  though  never  in 
the  wrong  situation;  above  all  things  Gritzko  is  a 
gentleman;  but  sometimes  I  wish  he  would  take 
life  less  as  a  game.  One  cannot  help  speculating 
how  it  can  end." 

"  Has  he  no  family  ?"     Tamara  asked. 

"No,  everyone  is  dead.  His  mother  worshipped 
him,  but  she  died  when  he  was  scarcely  eighteen, 
and  his  father  before  that.  His  mother  is  his 
adored  memory.  In  all  the  mad  scenes  which  he 
and  his  companions,  I  am  afraid,  have  enacted  in 
the  Fontonka  house,  there  is  one  set  of  rooms  no 
one  has  dared  to  enter — her  rooms — and  he  keeps 
flowers  there,  and  an  ever-burning  lamp.  Thare  is 
a  strange  touch  of  sentiment  and  melancholy  in 
Gritzko,  and  of  religion  too.  Sometimes  I  think 
he  is  unhappy,  and  then  he  goes  off  to  his  castle  in 
the  Caucasus  or  to  Milasldv,  and  no  one  sees  him 
for  weeks.  Last  year  we  hoped  he  would  marry 
84 


HIS  HOUR 

a  charming  Polish  girl — he  quite  paid  her  attention 
for  several  nights;  but  he  said  she  laughed  one  day 
when  he  felt  sad,  and  answered  seriously  when  he 
was  gay,  and  made  crunching  noises  with  her  teeth 
when  she  eat  biscuits ! — and  her  mother  was  fat  and 
she  might  grow  so  too !  And  for  these  serious  reasons 
he  could  not  face  her  at  breakfast  for  the  rest  of 
his  life!  Thus  that  came  to  an  end.  No  one 
has  any  influence  upon  him.  I  have  given  up 
trying.  One  must  accept  him  as  he  is,  or  leave  him 
alone — he  will  go  his  own  way." 

Tamara  had  ceased  fighting  with  herself  about 
the  interest  she  took  in  conversations  relating  to 
the  Prince.  She  could  not  restrain  her  desire  to 
hear  of  him,  but  she  explained  it  now  by  telling 
herself  he  was  a  rather  lurid  and  unusual  foreign 
character,  which  must  naturally  be  an  interesting 
study  for  a  stranger. 

"It  was  an  escape  for  the  girl  at  least,  perhaps," 
she  said,  when  the  Princess  paused. 

"Of  that  I  am  not  sure;  he  is  so  tender  to  chil- 
dren and  animals,  and  his  soul  is  full  of  generosity 
and    poetry — and    justice    too.    Poor    Gritzko," 
and  the  Princess  sighed. 
85 


HIS  HOUR 

Then  Tamara  remembered  their  conversation 
during  their  night  ride  from  the  Sphinx,  and  she 
felt  again  the  humiliating  certainty  of  how  com- 
monplace he  must  have  found  her. 

Presently  the  Princess  took  her  to  see  the  house. 
Every  room  filled  with  relics  of  the  grand  owners 
who  had  gone  before.  There  were  portraits  of 
Peter  the  Great,  and  the  splendid  Catherine,  in 
almost  every  room. 

"An  Empress  so  much  misjudged  in  your  coun- 
try, Tamara,"  her  godmother  said.  "She  had  the 
soul  and  the  necessities  of  a  man,  but  she  was 
truly  great." 

Tamara  gazed  up  at  the  proud  dgbonnaire  face, 
and  she  thought  how  at  home  they  would  think 
of  the  most  unconventional  part  of  her  character, 
to  the  obliteration  of  all  other  aspects,  and  each 
moment  she  was  realizing  how  ridiculous  and 
narrow  was  the  view  from  the  standpoint  from 
which  she  had  been  made  to  look  at  life. 

For  luncheon  quite  a  number  of  guests  arrived, 
the  Princess,  she  found  afterward,  was  hardly 
ever  alone. 

"I  don't  care  to  go  out,  Tamara,  as  a  rule,  to 


HIS  HOUR 

dejeuner,"  she  said,  "but  I  love  my  house  to  be 
filled  with  young  people  and  mirth.'* 

The  names  were  very  difficult  for  Tamara  to 
catch,  especially  as  they  all  called  each  other  by 
their  petits  noms — all  having  been  friends  since 
babyhood,  if  not,  as  often  was  the  case,  related 
by  ties  of  blood;  but  at  last  she  began  to  know  that 
"Olga"  was  the  Countess  Gteboff,  and  "Sonia," 
the  Princess  Solentzeflf-Zasiekin — both  young, 
under  thirty,  and  both  attractive  and  quite  sans 
gene. 

"Olga"  was  little  and  plump,  with  an  oval 
face  and  rather  prominent  eyes,  but  with  a  way  of 
saying  things  which  enchanted  Tamara's  ear. 
Her  manner  was  casualness  itself,  and  had  a  won- 
derful charm;  and  another  thing  struck  her  now 
that  she  saw  them  in  daylight,  not  a  single  woman 
present — and  there  were  six  or  seven  at  least — 
had  even  the  slightest  powder  on  her  face.  They 
were  as  nature  made  them,  not  the  faintest  aid 
from  art  in  anyway.  "They  cannot  be  at  all 
coquette  like  the  French,"  she  thought,  "or  even 
like  us  in  England,  or  they  could  not  all  do  their 
hair  like  that  whether  it  suits  them  or  no!  But 
87 


HIS  HOUR 

what  charm  they  have — much  more  than  we,  or 
the  French,  or  any  one  I  know." 

They  were  all  so  amusing  and  gay  at  lunch  and 
talked  of  teeny  scandals  with  a  whimsical  humor 
at  themselves  for  being  so  small,  which  was  delight- 
ful, and  no  one  said  anything  spiteful  or  mean. 
Quantities  of  pleasant  things  were  planned,  and 
Tamara  found  her  days  arranged  for  a  week 
ahead. 

That  night,  as  they  drove  to  Prince  MilaslaVski's 
dinner,  an  annoying  sense  of  excitement  possessed 
Tamara.  She  refused  to  ask  herself  why.  Curi- 
osity to  see  the  house  of  this  strange  man — most 
likely — in  any  case,  emotion  enough  to  make  her 
eyes  bright. 

It  was  one  of  the  oldest  houses  in  Petersburg, 
built  in  the  time  of  Catherine,  about  1768,  and 
although  in  a  highly  florid  rococo  style  of  decora- 
tion, as  though  something  gorgeous  and  barbaric 
had  amalgamated  with  the  Louis  XV.,  still  it  had 
escaped  the  terrible  wave  of  1850  vandalism,  and 
stood,  except  for  a  few  Empire  rooms,  a  monument 
of  its  time. 

Everything  about  it  interested  Tamara.  The 
88 


HIS  HOUR 

strange  Cossack  servants  in  the  hall;  the  splendid 
staircase  of  stone  and  marble,  and  then  finally 
they  reached  the  salons  above. 

"One  can  see  no  woman  lives  here,"  she  thought, 
though  the  one  they  entered  was  comfortable 
enough.  Huge  English  leather  armchairs  elbowed 
some  massively  gilt  seats  of  the  time  of  Nicholas  I., 
and  an  ugly  English  high  fender  with  its  padded 
seat,  surrounded  the  blazing  log  fire. 

The  guests  were  all  assembled,  but  host,  there 
was  not! 

"What  an  impertinence  to  keep  them  waiting 
like  this,"  Tamara  thought!  However,  no  one 
seemed  to  mind  but  herself,  and  they  all  stood 
laughing  or  sitting  on  the  fender  in  the  best  of 
spirits. 

"I  will  bet  you,"  said  Olga  Gle*boff,  in  her 
attractive  voice,  "that  Gritzko  comes  in  with  no 
apology,  and  that  we  shall  none  of  us  be  able  to 
drag  from  him  where  he  has  been!" 

As  she  spoke  he  entered  the  room. 

"Ah!  you  are  all  very  early,"  he  said,  shaking 
their  hands  in  frank  welcome.  "So  good  of  you, 
dear  friends.  Perhaps  I  am  a  little  late,  you  will 
89 


HIS  HOUR 

forgive  me,  I  know;  and  now  for  Zacouska,  a 
wolf  is  tearing  at  my  vitals,  I  feel,  and  yours  too. 
It  is  nine  o'clock!" 

Then  the  dining-room  doors  at  the  side  opened 
and  they  all  went  in  en  bande,  and  gathered  round 
the  high  table,  where  they  began  to  eat  like  hun- 
gry natural  people,  selecting  the  dishes  they  wanted. 
Some  of  the  men  taking  immense  spoonfuls  of 
caviare,  and  spreading  them  on  bread,  like  children 
with  jam.  All  were  so  joyous  and  so  perfectly 
without  ceremony.  Nothing  could  be  more  agree- 
able than  this  society,  Tamara  thought. 

Some  of  the  men  were  elderly,  and  a  number 
the  husbands  of  the  various  ladies;  there  were  a 
few  young  officers  and  several  diplomats  from  the 
Embassies,  too.  But  young  or  old,  all  were  gay 
and  ready  to  enjoy  life. 

"You  must  taste  some  vodka,  Madame,"  Prince 
Milasldvski  said,  pouring  a  small  glass  at  Tamara's 
side.  "You  will  not  like  it,  but  it  is  Russian,  and 
you  must  learn.  See  I  take  some,  too,  and  drink 
your  health!" 

Tamara  bowed  and  sipped  the  stuff,  which  she 
found  very  nasty,  with  a  whiff  of  ether  in  it.  And 
90 


HIS  HOUR 

then  they  all  trouped  to  the  large  table  in  this  huge 
dining-hall. 

Tamara  sat  on  her  host's  right  hand,  and  Prin- 
cess Sonia  on  his  left. 

To-night  his  coat  was  brown  and  the  underdress 
black,  it  was  quite  as  becoming  as  the  others  she 
had  seen  him  in,  with  the  strange  belt  and  gold 
and  silver  trimmings  and  the  Eastern  hang  of  it 
all,  and  his  great  dark  gray-blue  eyes  blazed  at 
Tamara  now  and  then  with  a  challenge  in  them 
she  could  hardly  withstand. 

"Now  tell  us,  Gritzko,  what  did  you  do  in 
Egypt  this  year?"  Princess  Sonia  said.  "It  is  the 
first  time  that  no  histories  of  your  ways  have  come 
to  our  ears — were  you  ill  ? — or  bored  ?  We  feared 
you  were  dead." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  was  greatly  alive,"  he  an- 
swered gravely.  "I  was  studying  mummies  and 
falling  in  love  with  the  Sphinx.  And  just  at  the  end 
I  had  a  most  interesting  kind  of  experience;  I  came 
upon  what  looked  like  a  woman,  but  turned  out 
to  be  a  mummy  and  later  froze  into  a  block  of  ice!" 

"Gritzko!"  they  called  in  chorus.     "Can  any- 
one invent  such  impossible  stories  as  you!" 
7  91 


HIS  HOUR 

*'I  assure  you  I  am  speaking  the  truth.  Is  it 
not  so,  Madame?"  And  he  looked  at  Tamara 
and  smiled  with  fleeting  merry  mockery  in  his  eyes. 
"See,"  and  he  again  turned  to  his  guests,  "Madame 
has  been  in  Egypt  she  tells  me,  and  should  be  able 
to  vouch  for  my  truth." 

Tamara  pulled  herself  together. 

"I  think  the  Sphinx  must  have  cast  a  spell 
over  you,  Prince,"  she  said,  "so  that  you  could  not 
distinguish  the  real  from  the  false.  I  saw  no 
women  who  were  mummies  and  then  turned  into 
ice!" 

Some  one  distracted  Princess  Sonia's  attention 
for  a  moment,  and  the  Prince  whispered,  "  One  can 
melt  ice!" 

"To  find  a  mummy?"  Tamara  asked  with 
grave  innocence.  "That  would  be  the  inverse 
rotation." 

"And  lastly  a  woman — in  one's  arms,"  the 
Prince  said. 

Tamara  turned  to  her  neighbor  and  became 
engrossed  in  his  conversation  for  the  rest  of  the 
repast. 

All  the  women,  and  nearly  all  the  men,  spoke 
92 


HIS  HOUR 

English  perfectly,  and  their  good  manners  were 
such  that  even  this  large  party  talked  in  the  strange 
guest's  language  among  themselves. 

"One  must  converse  now  as  long  as  one  can," 
her  neighbor  told  her,  "because  the  moment  we 
have  had  coffee  everyone  will  play  bridge,  and  no 
further  sense  will  be  got  out  of  them.  We  are  a 
little  behind  the  rest  of  the  world  always  in  Peters- 
burg, and  while  in  England  and  Paris  this  game 
has  had  its  day,  here  we  are  still  in  its  claws  to  a 
point  of  madness,  as  Madame  will  see." 

And  thus  it  fell  about. 

Prince  Milasl&vski  gave  Tamara  his  arm  and 
they  found  coffee  awaiting  them  in  the  salon  when 
they  returned  there,  and  at  once  the  rubbers  were 
made  up.  And  with  faces  of  grave  pre-occupation 
this  lately  merry  company  sat  down  to  their  game, 
leaving  only  the  Prince  and  one  lady  and  Tamara 
unprovided  for. 

"Yes,  I  can  play,"  she  had  said,  when  she  was 
asked,  "but  it  bores  me  so,  and  I  do  it  so  badly; 
may  I  not  watch  you  instead?" 

The  lady  who  made  the  third  had  not  these 
ideas,  and  she  sat  down  near  a  table  ready  to  cut 


HIS  HOUR 

in.  Thus  the  host  and  his  English  guest  were  left 
practically  alone. 

"I  did  not  mean  you  to  play,"  he  said,  "I  knew 
you  couldn't — I  arranged  it  like  this." 

"Why  did  you  know  I  couldn't?"  Tamara 
asked.  "I  am  too  stupid  perhaps  you  think!" 

"Yes — too  stupid  and — too  sweet." 

"I  am  neither  stupid — nor  sweet!"  and  her 
eyes  flashed. 

"Probably  not,  but  you  seem  so  to  me. — Now 
don't  get  angry  at  once,  it  makes  our  acquaintance 
so  fatiguing,  I  have  each  time  to  be  presented  over 
again." 

Then  Tamara  laughed. 

"  It  really  is  all  very  funny,"  she  said. 

"And  how  is  the  estimable  Mrs.  Hardcastle?" 
he  asked,  when  he  had  laughed  too — his  joyous 
laugh.  "This  is  a  safe  subject  and  we  can  sit 
on  the  fender  without  your  wanting  to  push  me 
into  the  fire  over  it." 

"I  am  not  at  all  sure  of  that,"  answered  Tamara. 
She  could  not  resist  his  charm,  she  could  not  con- 
tinue quarrelling  with  him;  somehow  it  seemed  too 
difficult  here  in  his  own  house,  so  she  smiled  as 
94 


HIS  HOUR 

she  went  on.  "If  you  laugh  at  my  Millicent,  I 
shall  get  very  angry  indeed." 

"Laugh  at  your  Millicent!  The  idea  is  miles 
from  my  brain — did  not  I  tell  you  when  I  could 
find  a  wife  like  that  I  would  marry — what  more 
can  I  say!"  and  the  Prince  looked  at  her  with  su- 
preme gravity.  "Did  she  tell  'Henry*  that  a  devil 
of  a  Russian  bear  had  got  drunk  and  flung  a  gipsy 
into  the  sea?" 

"Possibly.  Why  were  you  so — horrible  that 
night  ?" 

"Was  I  horrible?" 

"Probably  not,  but  you  seemed  so  to  me,'* 
Tamara  quoted  his  late  words. 

"I  seem  horrible — and  you  seem  sweet." 

"Surely  the  stupid  comes  in  too!" 

"Undoubtedly,  but  Russia  will  cure  that,  you 
will  not  go  away  for  a  long  time." 

"In  less  than  four  weeks." 

"We  shall  see,"  and  the  Prince  got  up  and  lit 
another  cigarette.  "You  do  not  smoke  either? 
What  a  little  good  prude!" 

"I  am  not  a  prude!"  Tamara's  ire  rose  again. 
"I  have  tried  often  with  my  brother  Tom,  and  it 
95 


HIS  HOUR 

always  makes  me  sick.  I  would  be  a  fool,  not  a 
prude,  to  go  on,  would  not  I?" 

"I  am  not  forcing  you  to  smoke.  I  like  your 
pretty  teeth  best  as  they  are!" 

Rebellion  shook  Tamara.  It  was  his  attitude 
toward  her — one  of  supreme  unconcerned  com- 
mand— as  though  he  had  a  perfect  right  to  take 
his  pleasure  out  of  her  conversation,  and  play  upon 
her  emotions,  according  to  his  mood.  She  could 
have  boxed  his  ears. 

"How  long  ago  is  it  since  we  danced  in  Egypt — 
a  fortnight,  or  more?  You  move  well,  but  you 
don't  know  anything  about  dancing,"  he  went  on. 
"Dancing  is  either  a  ridiculous  jumping  about 
of  fools,  who  have  no  more  understanding  of  its 
meaning  than  a  parcel  of  marionettes.  Or  it  is 
an  expression  of  some  sort  of  emotion.  The  Greeks 
understood  that  in  their  Orchiesis,  each  feeling 
had  its  corresponding  movement.  For  me  it  means 
a  number  of  things.  When  a  woman  is  slender 
and  pliant  and  smooth  of  step,  and  if  she  pleases 
me  otherwise,  then  it  is  not  waste  of  time! — To- 
night I  shall  probably  get  drunk  again,"  and  he 
flicked  the  ash  off  his  cigarette  with  his  little 
96 


HIS  HOUR 

finger;  and  even  though  Tamara  was  again  annoyed 
with  him,  she  could  not  help  noticing  that  his  hands 
were  fine  and  strong. 

"  But  you  were  not  drunk  on  the  ship — you  could 
not  even  plead  that,"  she  said,  almost  shocked  at 
herself  for  speaking  of  anything  so  horrible. 

"It  is  the  same  thing.  I  feel  a  mad  super- 
charge of  life — an  intoxication  of  the  senses,  per- 
haps. It  has  only  one  advantage  over  the  cham- 
pagne result.  I  am  steady  on  my  feet,  and  my 
voice  is  not  thick!" 

Tamara  did  not  speak. 

"I  wonder  what  this  music  we  shall  hear  will 
say  to  you.  Will  it  make  the  milk  and  water  you 
call  blood  in  your  veins  race? — it  will  amuse  me 
to  see." 

"I  am  not  made  for  your  amusement,  Prince. 
How  dare  you  always  treat  me  as  you  do  ?"  And 
Tamara  drew  herself  up  haughtily.  "And  if  my 
veins  contain  milk  and  water,  it  is  at  least  my 
own." 

"You    dared    me   once   before,    Madame,"    he 
said,  smiling  provokingly.     "Do  you  think  it  is 
quite  wise  of  you  to  try  it  again  ?" 
97 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  do  not  care  if  it  is  wise  or  no.  I  hate  you!" 
almost  hissed  poor  Tamara. 

Then  his  eyes  blazed,  as  she  had  never  seen 
them  yet.  'He  moved  nearer  to  her,  and  spoke  in 
a  low  concentrated  voice. 

"It  is  a  challenge.  Good.  Now  listen  to  what 
I  say.  In  a  little  short  time  you  shall  love  me. 
That  haughty  little  head  shall  lie  here  on  my 
breast  without  a  struggle,  and  I  shah*  kiss  your 
lips  until  you  cannot  breathe.'* 

For  the  second  time  in  her  life  Tamara  went 
dead  white — he  saw  her  pale  even  to  her  lips. 
And  since  the  moment  was  not  yet,  and  since  his 
mood  was  not  now  to  make  her  suffer,  he  bent 
over  with  contrition  and  asked  her  to  forgive  him 
in  a  tender  voice. 

"  Madame — I  am  only  joking — but  I  am  a  brute," 
he  said. 

Tamara  rose  and  walked  to  the  bridge  tables, 
furious  with  herself  that  he  could  have  seen  his 
power  over  her,  even  though  it  were  only  to  cause 
rage. 

He  came  up  behind  her  and  sat  down  and  began 
to  talk  nicely  again — about  the  sights  to  be  seen 
98 


HIS  HOUR 

in  the  capital,  and  the  interesting  museums  and  col- 
lections of  pictures  and  arms.  Nothing  could  be 
more  correct  than  his  manner,  and  the  bridge 
players  who  were  within  earshot  smiled,  while 
Countess  Olga  thought. 

"Either  Gritzko  has  just  been  making  love  to 
the  Englishwoman,  or  he  is  immensely  bored — • 
The  latter  from  his  face." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

E  company  stopped  their  game  about 
a  quarter  to  twelve,  and  tables  and 
champagne  and  glasses  were  brought  in, 
and  hand  in  hand  they  made  a  circle  and  drank 
in  the  New  Year. 

Tamara  took  care  to  stand  by  Princess  Arda- 
cheff,  but  her  host  looked  at  her  as  he  raised  his 
glass.  Then  they  descended  to  the  hall,  and  were 
wrapped  in  their  furs  again  to  go  to  the  caf£  where 
the  Bohemians  were  to  sing. 

Tamara  and  the  Princess  were  already  in  the 
latter's  coup£  when  Prince  Milaslavski  called  out: 
"Tantine — !  take  me  too — I  am  slim  and  can  sit 
between  you,  and  I  want  to  arrive  soon,  I  have 
sent  my  motor  on  with  Serge  and  Valonne." 

And  without  waiting  he  got  in. 

They  had  to  sit  very  close,  and  Tamara  became 
incensed  with  herself,  because  in  spite  of  all  her 
late  rage  with  the  Prince,  she  experienced  a  sensa- 
100 


HIS  HOUR 

tion  which  was  disturbing  and  unknown.  The 
magnetic  personality  of  the  man  was  so  strong. 
He  bent  and  whispered  something  to  the  Princess, 
and  then  as  though  sharing  a  secret,  he  leaned  the 
other  way,  and  whispered  to  Tamara,  too.  The 
words  were  nothing,  only  some  ordinary  nonsense, 
of  which  she  took  no  heed.  But  as  he  spoke  his 
lips  touched  her  ear.  A  wild  thrill  ran  through 
her,  she  almost  trembled,  so  violent  was  the  emo- 
tion the  little  seemingly  accidental  caress  caused. 
A  feeling  she  had  never  realized  in  the  whole  of 
her  life  before.  Why  did  he  tease  her  so.  Why 
did  he  always  behave  in  this  maddening  manner! 
and  choose  moments  when  she  was  defenseless  and 
could  make  no  move.  Of  one  thing  she  was  certain, 
if  she  should  stay  on  in  Russia  she  must  come  to 
some  understanding  with  him  if  possible,  and 
prevent  any  more  of  these  ways — absolutely  insult- 
ing to  her  self-respect. 

So  she  shrunk  back  in  her  corner  and  gave  no 
reply. 

"Are  you  angry  with  me?"  he  whispered.  "It 
was  the  shaking  of  the  automobile  which  caused 
me  to  come  too  near  you.  Forgive  me,  I  will  try 
101 


HIS  HOUR 

mot  to  sin  again," — but  as  he  spoke  he  repeated  his 
offense! 

Tamara  clasped  her  hands  together,  tightly,  and 
answered  in  the  coldest  voice — 

"I  did  not  notice  anything,  Prince,  it  must  be  a 
guilty  conscience  which  causes  you  to  apologize." 

"In  that  case  then  all  is  well!"  and  he  laughed 
softly. 

The  Princess  now  joined  in  the  conversation. 

"Gritzko,  you  must  tell  Mrs.  Loraine  how  these 
gipsies  are,  and  what  she  will  hear — she  will  think 
it  otherwise  so  strange." 

He  turned  to  Tamara  at  once. 

"They  are  a  queer  people  who  dwell  in  a  clan. 
They  sing  like  the  fiend — one  hates  it  or  loves  it, 
but  it  gets  on  the  nerves,  and  if  a  man  should  fancy 
one  of  them,  he  must  pay  the  chief,  not  the  girl. 
Then  they  are  faithful  and  money  won't  tempt 
them  away.  But  if  the  man  makes  them  jealous, 
they  run  a  knife  into  his  back." 

"It  sounds  exciting  at  all  events,"  Tamara  said. 

"It  is  an  acquired  taste,  and  if  you  have  a  par- 
ticularly sensitive  ear  the  music  will  make  you  feel 
inclined  to  scream.    It  drives  me  mad." 
102 


HIS  HOUR 

"Gritzko,"  the  Princess  whispered  to  him. 
"You  promise  to  be  sage,  dear  boy,  do  you  not? 
Sometimes  you  alarm  me  when  you  go  too  far." 

"Tantine!"  and  he  kissed  her  hand.  "Your 
words  are  law!" 

"Alas!  if  that  were  only  true,"  she  said  with  a 
sigh. 

"To-night  all  shall  be  suited  to  the  eleven 
thousand  virgins!"  and  he  laughed.  "Or  shall  I 
say  suited  to  an  English  grande  dame — which  is  the 
same!" 

They  had  crossed  the  Neva  by  now,  and  presently 
arrived  at  a  building  with  a  gloomy  looking  door, 
and  so  to  a  dingy  hall,  in  which  a  few  waiters  were 
scurrying  about.  They  seemed  to  go  through  end- 
less shabby  passages,  like  those  of  a  lunatic  asylum, 
and  finally  arrived  at  a  large  and  empty  room — 
empty  so  far  as  people  were  concerned — for  at  the 
end  there  were  sofas  and  a  long  narrow  table,  and 
a  few  smaller  ones  with  chairs. 

The  tables  were  already  laid,  with  dishes  of  raw 
ham  and  salted  almonds  and  various  bonnes  bouches, 
while  brilliant  candelabra  shone  amidst  numerous 
bottles  of  champagne. 

103 


HIS  HOUR 

The  company  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the 
gloom  that  playing  bridge  had  brought  over  them, 
and  were  as  gay  again  as  one  could  wish,  while 
divesting  themselves  of  their  furs  and  snow-boots. 

And  soon  Tamara  found  herself  seated  on  the 
middle  sofa  behind  the  long  table,  Count  Gle"boff 
on  her  right,  and  the  French  Secretary,  Count 
Valonne,  at  her  left,  while  beyond  him  was  Princess 
Sonia,  and  near  by  all  the  rest. 

Their  host  stood  up  in  front,  a  brimming  glass 
in  his  hand. 

Then  there  filed  in  about  twenty-five  of  the  most 
unattractive  animal-looking  females,  dressed  in 
ordinary  hideous  clothes,  who  all  took  their  seats 
on  a  row  of  chairs  at  the  farther  end.  They  wore 
no  national  costume  nor  anything  to  attract  the 
eye,  but  were  simply  garbed  as  concierges  or  shop- 
girls might  have  been;  and  some  were  old,  gray- 
haired  women,  and  one  had  even  a  swollen  face  tied 
up  in  a  black  scarf!  How  could  it  be  possible  that 
any  of  these  could  be  the  "fancy"  of  a  man! 

They  were  followed  by  about  ten  dark,  beetle- 
browed  males,  who  carried  guitars. 

These  were  the  famous  Bohemians!  Their 
104 


HIS  HOUR 

appearance  at  all  events  was  disillusioning  enough, 
Tamara's  disappointmen  twas  immense. 

But  presently  when  they  began  to  sing  she 
realized  that  there  was  something — something  in 
their  music — even  though  it  was  of  an  intense 
unrest. 

She  found  it  was  the  custom  for  them  to  sing  a 
weird  chant  song  on  the  name  of  each  guest,  and 
every  one  must  drink  to  this  guest's  health,  all 
standing,  and  quaffing  the  glasses  of  champagne 
down  at  one  draught. 

That  they  all  remained  sober  at  the  end  of  the 
evening  seemed  to  do  great  credit  to  their  heads, 
for  Tamara,  completely  unaccustomed  to  the  smoke 
and  the  warm  room,  feared  even  to  sip  at  her 
glass. 

The  toasting  over,  every  one  sat  down,  Prince 
Milaslavski  and  a  Pole  being  the  only  two  in  front 
of  the  table,  and  they  with  immense  spirit  chaffed 
the  company,  and  called  the  tunes. 

The  music  was  of  the  most  wild,  a  queer  metallic 
sound,  and  the  airs  were  full  of  unexpected  har- 
monies  and   nerve-racking  chords.     It  fired  the 
sense,  in  spite  of  the  hideous  singers. 
105 


HIS  HOUR 

They  all  sat  there  with  perfectly  immovable 
faces  and  entirely  still  hands, — singing  without 
gesticulations  what  were  evidently  passionate  love- 
songs  !  Nothing  could  have  been  more  incongruous 
or  grotesque ! 

But  the  fascination  of  it  grew  and  grew.  Every 
one  of  their  ugly  faces  remained  printed  on 
Tamara's  brain.  Long  afterward  she  would 
see  them  in  dreams. 

How  little  we  yet  know  of  the  force  of  sounds! 
How  little  we  know  of  any  of  the  great  currents 
which  affect  the  world  and  human  life! 

And  music  above  any  other  art  stirs  the  sense. 
Probably  the  Greek  myth  of  Orpheus  and  his  lute 
was  not  a  myth  after  all;  perhaps  Orpheus  had 
mastered  the  occult  knowledge  of  this  great  power. 
Surely  it  would  be  worth  some  learned  scientist's 
while  to  investigate  from  a  psychological  point  of 
view  how  it  is,  and  why  it  is,  that  certain  chords 
cause  certain  emotions,  and  give  base  or  elevating 
visions  to  human  souls. 

The  music  of  these  gipsies  was  of  the  devil,  it 
seemed  to  Tamara,  and  she  was  not  surprised  at 
the  wild  look  in  Prince  Milasldvski's  eyes,  for 
106 


HIS  HOUR 

she  herself — she,  well  brought  up,  conventionally 
crushed  English  Tamara, — felt  a  strange  quicken- 
ing of  the  pulse. 

After  an  hour  or  so  of  this  music,  two  of  the 
younger  Bohemian  women  began  to  dance,  not  in 
the  least  with  the  movements  that  had  shocked  Mrs. 
Hardcastle  in  the  Alexandrian  troupe  on  the  ship, 
but  a  foolish  valsing,  while  the  shoulders  rose  and 
fell  and  quivered  like  the  flapping  wings  of  some 
bird.  The  shoulders  seemed  the  talented  part, 
not  the  body  or  hips. 

And  then  about  three  o'clock  the  entire  troupe 
filed  out  of  the  room  for  refreshment  and  rest.  The 
atmosphere  was  thick  with  smoke,  and  heated  to 
an  incredible  extent.  Some  one  started  to  play  the 
piano,  and  every  one  began  to  dance  a  wild  round 
— a  mazurka,  perhaps — and  Tamara  found  herself 
clasped  tightly  in  the  arms  of  her  Prince. 

She  did  not  know  the  step,  but  they  valsed  to 
the  tune,  and  all  the  time  he  was  whispering  mad 
things  in  Russian  in  her  ear.  She  could  not  correct 
him,  because  she  did  not  know  what  they  might 
mean. 

" Doushka,"  he  said  at  last.  "So  you  are  awake; 
8  107 


HIS  HOUR 

so  it  is  not  milk  and  water  after  all  in  those  pretty 
blue  veins!  God!  I  will  teach  you  to  live!" 

And  Tamara  was  not  angry;  she  felt  nothing 
except  an  unreasoning  pleasure  and  exultation. 

The  amateur  bandsman  came  to  a  stop,  and 
another  took  his  place;  but  the  spell  fortunately 
was  broken,  and  she  could  pull  herself  together 
and  return  to  sane  ways. 

"I  am  tired,"  she  said,  when  the  Prince  would 
have  gone  on,  "and  I  am  almost  faint  for  want  of 
air."  So  he  opened  a  window  and  left  her  for  a 
moment  in  peace. 

She  danced  again  with  the  first  man  who  asked 
her,  going  quickly  from  one  to  another  so  as  to 
avoid  having  to  be  too  often  held  by  the  Prince. 
But  each  time  she  felt  his  arm  round  her,  back 
again  would  steal  the  delicious  mad  thrill. 

"I  hope  you  are  amusing  yourself,  dear  child," 
her  godmother  said.  "This  is  a  Russian  scene; 
you  would  not  see  it  in  any  other  land." 

And  indeed  Tamara  was  happy,  in  spite  of  her 
agitation  and  unrest. 

She  sat  down  now  with  Olga  Gle"boff,  and  they 
watched  the  others  while  they  took  breath.  The 
108 


HIS  HOUR 

Prince  was  dancing  with  Princess  She'banoff,  and 
her  charming  face  was  turned  up  to  him  with  an 
adoring  smile. 

"Poor  Tatiane, — "  Countess  Olga  said  low  to 
herself. 

When  the  gipsies  returned,  their  music  grew 
wilder  than  ever,  and  some  of  the  solos  seemed  to 
touch  responsive  chords  in  Tamara's  very  bones. 

The  Prince  sat  next  her  on  the  sofa  now,  and 
every  few  moments  he  would  bend  over  to  take  an 
almond,  or  light  a  cigarette,  so  that  he  touched  her 
apparently  without  intention,  but  nevertheless  with 
intent.  And  the  same  new  and  intoxicating  sensa- 
tion would  steal  through  her,  and  she  would  draw 
her  slender  figure  away  and  try  to  be  stiff  and  severe, 
but  with  no  effect. 

It  was  long  after  five  o'clock  before  it  was  all 
done,  and  they  began  to  wrap  up  and  say  "  Good- 
night." And  the  troupe,  bowing,  went  out  to  an- 
other engagement  they  had. 

"They  sing  all  night  and  sleep  in  the  day," 
Count   Gle"boff  told  Tamara,  as  they  descended 
the  stairs.    "At  this  time  of  the  year  they  never  see 
daylight,  only  sometimes  the  dawn." 
109 


HIS  HOUR 

"Tantine,"  said  the  Prince,  "order  your  motor 
to  go  back.  I  sent  for  my  troika,  and  it  is  here. 
We  must  show  Madame  Loraine  what  a  sleigh 
feels  like."  ' 

And  the  Princess  agreed. 

Oh!  the  pleasure  Tamara  found  when  presently 
they  were  flying  over  the  snow,  the  side  horses 
galloping  with  swift,  sure  feet.  And  under  the  furs 
she  and  her  godmother  felt  no  cold,  while  Gritzko, 
this  wild  Prince,  sat  facing  them,  his  splendid  eyes 
ablaze. 

Presently  they  stopped  and  looked  out  on  the 
Gulf  of  Finland  and  a  vast  view.  Above  were 
countless  stars  and  a  young,  rising  moon. 

It  was  striking  seven  as  they  went  to  their  rooms. 

Such  was  Tamara's  first  outing  in  this  land  of 
the  North. 


CHAPTER  IX 

X  days  went  past  before  Tamara  again 
saw  the  Prince.  Whether  he  was  busy  or 
kept  away  because  he  wished  to,  she  did 
not  know — and  would  not  ask — but  a  piqued 
sensation  gradually  began  to  rise  as  she  thought 
of  him. 

"I  must  arrange  for  you  to  go  to  Tsarskoi-Se'lo 
to  see  the  ceremony  of  the  Emperor  blessing  the 
waters  on  the  6th  of  our  January,  Tamara,"  her 
godmother  said,  a  day  or  two  after  the  Bohemian 
feast.  "I  have  seen  it  so  often,  and  I  do  not  wish 
to  stand  about  in  the  cold,  but  Sonia's  husband  is 
one  of  the  aides-de-camp,  and,  as  you  know,  she 
lives  at  Tsarskoi.  Olga  is  going  out  there,  and  will 
take  you  with  her,  and  you  three  can  go  on;  it  will 
interest  you,  I  am  sure." 

And  Tamara  had  gladly  acquiesced. 

Tsarskoi-Se'lo,  which  they  reached  after  half  an 
hour's  train,  seemed  such  a  quaint  place  to  her. 
Like  some  summer  resort  made  up  of  wooden  villas, 
111 


HIS  HOUR 

only  now  they  were  all  covered  with  snow.  She 
and  Countess  Olga  had  gone  together  to  Princess 
Sonia's  house,  and  from  there  to  the  palace  grounds, 
where  they  followed  snow-cleared  paths  to  a  sort 
of  little  temple  near  the  lake,  where  they  were 
allowed  to  stand  just  outside  the  line  of  Cossacks 
and  watch  for  the  coming  procession. 

The  sky  was  heavy,  and  soon  the  snow  began  to 
fall  intermittently  in  big,  fluffy  flakes.  This  back- 
ground of  white  showed  up  the  brilliant  scarlet 
uniforms  of  the  escort.  Standing  in  long  rows, 
they  were  an  imposing  sight.  And  Tamara 
admired  their  attractive  faces,  many  so  much  more 
finely  cut  than  the  guards  further  on.  They  wore 
fierce  beards,  and  they  all  seemed  to  be  extremely 
tall  and  slim,  with  waists  which  would  not  have 
disgraced  a  girl.  And,  at  the  end  of  the  line  at  the 
corner  where  they  stood,  she  suddenly  saw  the 
Prince.  He  was  talking  to  some  other  officers,  and 
apparently  did  not  see  them.  Tamara  grew  angry 
with  herself  at  finding  how  the  very  sight  of  him 
moved  her.  The  procession,  soon  seen  advancing, 
was  as  a  lesser  interest,  her  whole  real  concentra- 
tion being  upon  one  scarlet  form. 
112 


HIS  HOUR 

From  the  time  the  signal  was  given  that  the 
Emperor  had  started  from  the  palace  all  the  heads 
were  bare — bare  in  a  temperature  many  degrees 
below  freezing  and  in  falling  snow!  It  was  the 
Prince  who  gave  the  word  of  command,  and  while 
he  stood  at  attention  she  watched  his  face.  It 
was  severe  and  rigid,  like  the  face  of  a  statue.  On 
duty  he  was  evidently  a  different  creature  from 
the  wild  Gritzko  of  gipsy  suppers.  But  there  was 
no  use  arguing  with  herself — he  attracted  her  in 
every  case. 

Then  the  procession  advanced,  and  she  looked 
at  it  with  growing  amazement.  This  wonderful 
nation!  so  full  of  superstition  and  yet  of  common 
sense.  It  seemed  astonishing  that  grown-up 
people  should  seriously  assist  at  this  ceremony  of 
sentiment. 

First  came  the  choir-boys  with  thick  coats  cover- 
ing their  scarlet  gowns;  then  a  company  of  singing 
men;  then  the  priests  in  their  magnificent  robes  of 
gold  and  silver,  and  then  the  Emperor,  alone  and 
bareheaded.  Afterward  followed  the  Grand 
Dukes  and  the  standard  of  every  guard  regiment 
and  finally  all  the  aides-de-camps. 
113 


HIS  HOUR 

When  the  Emperor  passed  she  glanced  again 
at  the  Prince.  The  setness  of  his  face  had  given 
place  to  a  look  of  devotion.  There  was  evidently 
a  great  love  for  his  master  in  his  strange  soul. 
When  the  last  figure  had  moved  beyond  the  little 
temple  corner,  the  tension  of  all  was  relaxed,  and 
they  stood  at  ease  again,  and  Gritzko  appeared  to 
perceive  the  party  of  ladies,  and  smiled. 

"I  am  coming  to  get  some  hot  coffee  after  lunch, 
Sonia,"  he  called  out.  "I  promised  Marie." 

"  Does  it  not  give  them  cold  ?"  Tamara  asked, 
as  she  looked  at  the  Cossacks'  almost  shaven  bare 
heads.  "And  they  have  no  great-coats  on!  What 
can  they  be  made  of,  poor  things  P" 

"They  get  accustomed  to  it,  and  it  is  not  at  all 
cold  to-day,  fortunately,"  Countess  Olga  said. 
"They  would  have  their  furs  on  if  it  were.  Don't 
you  think  they  are  splendid  men?  I  love  to  see 
them  in  their  scarlet;  they  only  wear  it  on  special 
occasions  and  when  they  are  with  the  Emperor, 
or  at  Court  balls  or  birthdays.  I  am  so  glad  you 
see  Gritzko  in  his." 

Tamara  did  not  say  she  had  already  seen  the 
Prince  in  the  scarlet  coat;  none  of  her  new 
114 


HIS  HOUR 

friends  were   aware  that  they  had  met  before  in 

Egypt. 

All  this  time  the  guns  were  firing,  and  soon  the 
ceremony  of  dipping  the  cross  in  the  water  was 
aver,  and  the  procession  started  back  again. 

It  was  the  same  as  when  it  came,  only  the  priests 
were  wiping  the  cross  in  a  napkin,  and  presently 
all  passed  out  of  sight  toward  the  palace,  and  the 
three  ladies  walked  quickly  back  to  the  waiting 
sleigh,  half -frozen  with  cold. 

About  ten  minutes  after  they  had  finished  lunch, 
and  were  sitting  at  coffee  in  Princess  Sonia's  cosy 
salon — so  fresh  and  charming  and  like  an  English 
country  house — they  heard  a  good  deal  of  noise  in 
the  passage,  and  the  Prince  came  in.  He  was 
followed  by  a  sturdy  boy  of  eight,  and  carried  in 
his  arms  a  tiny  girl,  whose  poor  small  body  looked 
wizened,  while  in  her  little  arms  she  held  a  crutch. 

"We  met  in  the  hall — my  friend  Marie  and  I," 
he  said,  as  he  bent  to  kiss  Princess  Sonia's  hand, 
and  then  the  other  two  ladies',  "and  we  have  a 
great  deal  to  say  to  one  another." 

"These  are  my  children,  Mrs.  Loraine,"  Princess 
Sonia  said.  "They  were  coming  down  to  see  you; 
115 


HIS  HOUR 

but  now  Gritzko  has  appeared  we  shall  receive  no 
attention,  I  fear,"  and  she  laughed  happily, 
while  the  little  boy  came  forward,  and  with  beautiful 
manners  kissed  Tamara's  hand. 

"You  are  an  English  lady,"  he  said,  without 
the  slightest  accent.  "Have  you  a  little  boy, too  ?" 

Tamara  was  obliged  to  own  she  had  no  children, 
which  he  seemed  to  think  very  unfortunate. 

"Marie  always  has  to  have  her  own  way,  but 
while  she  is  with  Gritzko  she  is  generally  good,'* 
he  announced. 

"How  splendidly  you  speak  English!"  Tamara 
said.  "And  only  eight  years  old!  I  suppose  you 
can  talk  French,  too,  as  well  as  Russian  ?" 

"Naturally,  of  course,"  he  replied,  with  fine 
contempt.  "But  I'll  tell  you  something — German 
I  do  very  badly.  We  have  a  German  governess, 
and  I  hate  her.  Her  mouth  is  too  full  of  teeth." 

"That  certainly  is  a  disadvantage,"  Tamara 
agreed. 

"When  Gritzko  gets  up  with  us  he  makes  her 
in  a  fine  rage!  She  spluttered  so  at  him  last  week 
the  bottom  row  fell  out.  We  were  glad !" 

Princess  Sonia  now  interruoted:  "What  are 
116 


HIS  HOUR 

you  saying,  Peter?"  she  said.  "Poor  Fratilein! 
You  knovv  I  shall  have  to  forbid  Gritzko  from 
going  to  tea  with  you.  You  are  all  so  naughty 
when  you  get  together!" 

There  was  at  once  a  fierce  scream  from  the  other 
side  of  the  room. 

"Maman!  we  will  have  Gritzko  to  tea!  I  love 
him! — Je  1'aime!"  and  the  poor  crippled  tiny 
Marie  nearly  strangled  her  friend  with  a  frantic 
embrace. 

"You  see,  Maman,  we  defy  you!"  the  Prince 
said,  when  he  could  speak. 

The  little  boy  now  joined  his  sister,  and  both 
soon  shrieked  with  laughter  over  some  impossible 
tale  which  was  being  poured  into  their  ears;  and 
Princess  Sonia  said  softly  to  Tamara: 

"He  is  too  wonderful  with  children — Gritzko — 
when  he  happens  to  like  them — isn't  he,  Olga? 
All  of  ours  simply  adore  him,  and  I  can  never  tell 
you  of  his  goodness  and  gentleness  to  Marie  last 
year  when  she  had  her  dreadful  accident.  The 
poor  little  one  will  be  well  some  day,  we  hope,  and 
so  I  do  not  allow  myself  to  be  sad  about  it;  but  it 
was  a  terrible  grief." 

117 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara  looked  her  sympathy,  while  she  mur- 
•  mured  a  few  words.    Princess  Sonia  was  such  a 
sweet  and  charming  lady. 

More'  visitors  now  came  in,  and  they  all  drank 
their  coffee  and  tea,  but  the  Prince  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  any  one  beyond  casual  greetings;  he  con- 
tinued his  absorbing  conversation  with  his  small 
friends. 

Tamara  was  surprised  at  this  new  side  of  him. 
It  touched  her.  And  he  was  such  a  gloriously 
good-looking  picture  as  he  sat  there  in  his  scarlet 
coat,  while  Marie  played  with  the  silver  cartridges 
across  his  breast,  and  Peter  with  his  dagger. 

When  she  and  Countess  Olga  left  to  catch  an 
early  afternoon  train  he  came  too.  He  had  to  be 
back  in  Petersburg,  he  said.  Nothing  could  look 
more  desolate  than  the  tracts  of  country  seen  from 
the  train  windows,  so  near  the  capital  and  yet  wild, 
uncultivated  spaces,  part  almost  like  a  marsh. 
There  seemed  to  be  nothing  living  but  the  lonely 
soldiers  who  guarded  the  Royal  line  a  hundred 
yards  or  so  off.  It  depressed  Tamara  as  she  gazed 
out,  and  she  unconsciously  sighed,  while  a  sad 
look  came  into  her  eyes. 

118 


HIS  HOUR 

The  Prince  and  Countess  Olga  and  another 
officer,  who  had  joined  them,  were  all  chaffing 
gaily  while  they  smoked  their  cigarettes,  but 
Gritzko  appeared  to  be  aware  of  everything  that 
was  passing,  for  he  suddenly  bent  over  and  whis- 
pered to  Tamara: 

"  Madame,  when  you  have  been  here  long  enough 
you  will  learn  never  to  see  what  you  do  not  wish." 
Then  he  turned  back  to  the  others,  and  laughed 
again. 

What  did  he  mean  ?  she  wondered.  Were  there 
many  things  then  to  which  one  must  shut  one's  eyes  ? 

She  now  caught  part  of  the  conversation  that 
was  going  on. 

"But  why  won't  you  come,  Gritzko?"  Countess 
Olga  was  saying.  "It  will  be  most  amusing — and 
the  prizes  are  lovely,  Tatiane,  who  has  seen  them, 
says." 

"I? — to  be  glued  to  a  bridge  table  for  three 
solid  evenings.  Mon  Dieu!"  the  Prince  cried. 
"Having  to  take  what  partner  falls  to  one's  lot! 
No  choice!  My  heavens!  nothing  would  drag 
me.  Whatever  game  I  play  in  life,  I  will  select 
my  lady  myself." 

119 


HIS  HOUR 

"You  are  tiresome!"  Countess  Olga  said. 
When  they  got  to  the  station  the  Princess's  coup€ 
was  waiting,  as  well  as  the  Gle"boff  sleigh. 

"Good-bye,  and  a  thousand  thanks  for  taking 
me,"  Tamara  said,  and  they  waved  as  Countess 
Olga  drove  off.  And  then  the  Prince  handed  her 
into  the  coupd  and  asked  her  if  she  would  drop  him 
on  the  way. 

For  some  time  after  they  were  settled  under  the 
furs  and  rushing  along,  he  seemed  very  silent,  and 
when  Tamara  ventured  a  few  remarks  he  answered 
mechanically.  At  last  after  a  while: 

"You  are  going  to  this  bridge  tournament  at 
the  Varishkine's,  I  suppose?"  he  suddenly  said. 
"It  ought  to  be  just  your  affair." 

"Why  my  affair?"  Tamara  asked,  annoyed. 
"I  hate  bridge." 

"So  you  do.  I  forgot.  But  Tantine  will  take 
you,  all  the  same.  Perhaps,  if  nothing  more 
amusing  turns  up,  I  will  drop  in  one  night  and  see; 
but — wheugh!"  and  he  stretched  himself  and 
spread  out  his  hands — "I  have  been  impossibly 
sage  for  over  a  fortnight.  I  believe  I  must  soon 
break  out." 

120 


HIS  HOUR 

"What  does  that  mean,  Prince— to  'break  out'?" 

"It  means  to  throw  off  civilized  things  and  be 
as  mad  as  one  is  inclined,"  and  he  smiled  mock- 
ingly while  some  queer,  restless  spirit  dwelt  in  his 
eyes.  "I  always  break  out  when  things  make 
me  think,  and  just  now — in  the  train — when  you 
looked  at  the  sad  country " 

"That  made  you  think ?"  said  Tamara,  surprised. 

"Well — never  mind,  good  little  angel.  And 
now  good-bye,"  and  he  kissed  her  hand  lightly  and 
jumped  out;  they  had  arrived  at  his  house. 

Tamara  drove  on  to  the  Serguif skaia  with  a  great 
desire  to  see  him  again  in  her  heart. 

******          ** 

And  so  the  days  passed  and  the  hours  flew. 
Tamara  had  been  in  Russia  almost  Jhree  weeks; 
and  since  the  blessing  of  the  waters  the  time  had 
been  taken  up  with  a  continual  round  of  small 
entertainments.  The  Court  mourning  prevented 
as  yet  any  great  balls;  but  there  were  receptions, 
and  "bridges"  and  dinners,  and  night  after  night 
they  saw  the  same  people,  and  Tamara  got  to 
know  them  fairly  well.  But  after  the  excursion 
to  Tsarskoi-Se*lo  for  several  days  she  did  not  see 


HIS  HOUR 

the  Prince.  His  military  duties  took  up  his  whole 
time,  her  godmother  said.  And  when  at  last  he 
did  come  it  was  among  a  crowd,  and  there  was  no 
possible  chance  of  speech. 

"This  bores  me,"  he  announced  when  he  found 
the  room  full  of  people,  and  he  left  in  ten  minutes, 
and  they  did  not  see  him  again  for  a  week,  when 
they  met  him  at  a  dinner  at  the  English  Embassy. 

Then  he  seemed  cool  and  respectful  and  almost 
commonplace,  and  Tamara  felt  none  of  the  satis- 
faction she  should  have  done  from  this  changed 
order  of  things. 

At  the  bridge  tournament  he  made  no  appear- 
ance whatever. 

"Why  do  we  see  Prince  MilaslaVski  so  seldom 
when  we  go  out,  Marraine?"  she  asked  her  god- 
mother one  day.  "I  thought  all  these  people  were 
his  intimate  friends!" 

"So  they  are,  dear;  but  Gritzko  is  an  odd  crea- 
ture," the  Princess  said.  "He  asked  me  once  if 
I  thought  he  was  an  imbecile  or  a  performing  mon- 
key, when  I  reproached  him  for  not  being  at  the 
balls.  He  only  goes  out  when  he  is  so  disposed. 
If  some  one  person  amuses  him,  or  if  he  suddenly 


HIS  HOUR 

wants  to  see  us  all.  It  is  merely  by  fits  and  starts — 
always  from  the  point  of  view  of  if  he  feels  inclined, 
never  from  the  observance  of  any  social  law,  or 
from  obligation." 

"Why  on  earth  do  you  put  up  with  such  man- 
ners ?"  Tamara  exclaimed  with  irritation. 

"I  do  not  know.  We  might  not  in  any  one  else, 
but  Gritzko  is  a  privileged  person,"  the  Princess 
said.  "You  can't  imagine,  of  course,  dear,  because 
you  do  not  know  him  well  enough,  but  he  has  ways 
and  famous  of  coaxing.  He  will  do  the  most  out- 
rageous things,  and  make  me  very  angry,  and  then 
he  will  come  and  put  his  head  in  my  lap  like  a 
child,  and  kiss  my  hands,  and  call  me  'Tantine/ 
and,  old  woman  as  I  am,  I  cannot  resist  him.  And 
if  one  is  unhappy  or  ill,  no  one  can  be  more  tender 
and  devoted."  Then  she  added  dreamily: — 
"  While  as  a  lover  I  should  think  he  must  be  quite 
divine." 

Tamara  took  another  cup  of  tea  and  looked  into 
the  fire.  She  was  ashamed  to  show  how  this  con- 
versation interested  her. 

"Tatiane  She'banoff  is  madly  in  love  with  him, 
poor  thing,  and  I  do  not  believe  he  has  ever  given 
9  123 


HIS  HOUR 

her  any  real  encouragement,"  the  Princess  con- 
tinued. "I  have  seen  him  come  to  a  ball,  and 
when  all  the  young  women  are  longing  for  him  to 
ask  them  'to  dance,  he  will  go  off  with  me,  or 
old  Countess  Nivenska,  and  sit  talking  half 
the  night,  apparently  unaware  of  any  one  else's 
presence." 

"It  seems  he  must  be  the  most  exasperating, 
tiresome  person  one  has  ever  heard  of,  Marraine," 
Tamara  exclaimed.  "He  rides  over  you  all,  and 
you  cannot  even  be  angry,  and  continually  forgive 
him." 

"But  then  he  has  his  serious  side,"  the  Princess 
went  on,  eager  to  defend  her  favorite.  "He  is 
now  probably  studying  some  deep  military  prob- 
lem all  this  time,  and  that  is  why  we  have  not  seen 
him," — and  then  noticing  the  scornful  pose  of 
Tamara's  head  she  laughed.  "Don't  be  so  con- 
temptuous, dear  child,"  she  said.  "Perhaps  you 
too  will  understand  some  day." 

"That  is  not  very  likely,"  Tamara  said. 

But  alas!  for  the  Princess*  optimistic  surmises 
as  to  the  Prince's  occupations,  a  rumor  spread 
toward  the  end  of  the  week  of  the  maddest  orgie 
124 


HIS  HOUR 

which  had  taken  place  at  the  Fontonka  house.  It 
sounded  like  a  phantasmagoria  in  which  unclothed 
dancers,  and  wild  beasts,  and  unheard-of  feats 
seemed  to  float  about.  And  the  Princess  sighed 
as  she  refuted  the  gossip  it  caused. 

"Oh,  my  poor  Gritzko!  if  he  might  only  even 
for  a  while  remain  in  a  state  of  grace,"  she  said. 

And  Tamara's  interest  in  him,  in  spite  of  her 
shocked  contempt,  did  not  decrease. 

And  so  the  time  went  on. 

She  was  gradually  growing  to  know  the  society 
better,  and  to  get  a  peep  at  the  national  point  of 
view.  They  were  a  wonderfully  uncomplex  people, 
with  the  perfect  ease  which  only  those  at  the  bottom 
of  the  social  ladder  who  have  not  started  to  climb 
at  all,  and  those  who  have  reached  the  top,  like 
these,  can  have.  They  were  casually  friendly 
when  the  strangers  pleased  them,  and  completely 
unimpressed  with  their  intrinsic  worth  if  they  did 
not.  They  seemed  to  see  in  a  moment  the  shades 
in  people,  and  only  to  select  the  best.  And  when 
Tamara  came  to  talk  seriously  with  even  the  most 
apparently  frivolous,  she  found  they  all  had  the 
s<ime  trace  of  vague  melancholy  and  mystery,  as 
125 


HIS  HOUR 

though  they  were  grasping  in  the  dark  for  some- 
thing spiritual,  they  wished  to  seize.  Their  views 
and  boundaries  of  principles  in  action  seemed  to 
be  limitless,  just  as  their  vast  country  seems  to 
have  no  landmarks  for  miles.  One  could  imagine 
the  unexpected  happening  in  any  of  their  lives. 
And  the  charm  and  fascination  of  them  continued 
to  increase. 

It  was  late  one  afternoon  when  Prince  Milas- 
lavski  again  came  prominently  into  view  on 
Tamara's  horizon. 

She  was  sitting  alone  reading  in  the  blue  salon 
when  he  walked  unceremoniously  in. 

"Give  me  some  tea,  Madame,"  he  said.  "The 
Princess  met  me  in  the  hall,  and  told  me  I 
should  find  you  here;  so  now  let  us  begin  by 
this." 

Tamara  poured  it  out  and  leaned  back  in  the 
sofa  below  the  beautiful  Falconet  group,  which 
made — and  makes — the  glory  of  the  blue  salon  in 
the  Ardacheff  House.  She  felt  serene.  These 
two  weeks  of  unawakened  emotions  and  just  pleas- 
ant entertainments  since  the  day  at  Tsarskoi  had 
given  her  fresh  poise. 

126 


HIS  HOUR 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  us  by  nowv 
Madame?"  he  asked. 

"I  think  you  are  a  strange  band,"  she  said. 
"You  are  extremely  intellectual,  you  are  brilliant, 
and  yet  in  five  minutes  all  intelligence  can  fade  out 
of  your  faces,  and  all  interest  from  your  talks,  and 
you  fly  to  bridge." 

"It  is  because  we  are  primitive  and  unspoilt; 
this  is  our  new  toy,  and  we  must  play  with  it;  the 

excitement  will  wane,  and  a  fresh  one  come '» 

he  paused  and  then  went  on  in  another  tone — 

"You  in  England  have  many  outlets  for  your 
supervitality — you  cannot  judge  of  other  nations 
who  have  not.  You  had  a  magnificent  system  of 
government.  It  took  you  about  eight  hundred 
years  to  build  up,  and  it  was  the  admiration  of 
the  world — and  now  you  are  allowing  your  Social- 
ists and  ignorant  plebeian  place  hunters  to  pull  it 
all  to  pieces  and  throw  it  away.  That  is  more 
foolish  surely,  than  even  to  go  crazy  over  bridge!5' 

Tamara  sighed. 

"Have  you  ever  been  in  England,  Prince?" 
she  asked. 

He  sat  down  on  the  sofa  beside  her. 
127 


HIS  HOUR 

"No — but  one  day  I  shall  go,  Paris  is  as  far  as 
I  have  got  on  the  road  as  yet." 

"You  would  think  us  all  very  dull,  I  expect, 
and  calculating  and  restrained,"  Tamara  said 
softly.  "You  might  like  the  hunting,  but  some- 
how I  do  not  see  you  in  the  picture  there " 

He  got  up  and  moved  restlessly  to  the  mantle- 
piece,  where  he  leaned,  while  he  stirred  his  tea 
absently.  There  was  almost  an  air  of  bravado 
in  the  insouciant  tone  of  his  next  remark — 

"Do  you  know,  I  did  a  dreadful  thing,"  he  said. 
"And  it  has  grieved  me  terribly,  and  I  must  have 
your  sympathy.  I  hurt  my  Arab  horse.  You 
remember  him,  Suliman,  at  the  Sphinx  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Tamara. 

"I  had  a  little  party  to  some  of  my  friends,  and 
we  were  rather  gay — not  a  party  you  would  have 
approved  of,  but  one  which  pleased  us  all  the  same 
— and  they  dared  me  to  ride  Suliman  from  the 
stables  to  the  big  saloon." 

"And  I  suppose  you  did?"  Tamara's  voice 
was  full  of  contempt. 

He  noticed  the  tone,  and  went  on  defiantly: 

"Of  course;  that  was  easy;  only  the  devil  of  a 
128 


HIS  HOUR 

carpet  made  him  trip  at  the  bottom  again,  and  he 
has  strained  two  of  his  beautiful  feet.  But  you 
should  have  seen  him!"  he  went  on  proudly.  "As 
dainty  as  the  finest  gentleman  in  and  out  the 
chairs,  and  his  great  success  was  putting  his 
forelegs  on  the  fender  seat!" 

"How  you  have  missed  your  metie*r!"  Tamara 
said,  and  she  leant  back  in  her  sofa  and  sur- 
veyed him  as  he  stood,  a  graceful  tall  figure  in  his 
blue  long  coat.  "Think  of  the  triumph  you 
would  have  in  a  Hippodrome!" 

He  straightened  himself  suddenly,  his  great  eyes 
flashed,  and  over  his  face  came  a  fierceness  she 
had  not  guessed. 

"I  thought  you  had  melted  a  little — here  in  our 
snow,  but  I  see  it  is  the  mummy  there  all  the  same," 
he  said. 

Tamara  laughed.  For  the  first  time  it  was  she 
who  held  the  reins. 

"  Even  to  the  wrappings," — and  she  gently  kicked 
out  the  soft  gray  folds  of  her  skirt. 

He  took  a  step  nearer  her,  and  then  he  stood 
still,  and  while  the  fierceness  remained  in  his  face, 
his  eyes  were  full  of  pain. 
129 


HIS  HOUR 

She  glanced  up  at  him,  and  over  her  came  almost 
a  sense  of  indignation  that  he  should  so  unworthily 
pass  his  time. 

"How  you  waste  your  life!"  she  said.  "Oh! 
think  to  be  a  man,  and  free,  and  a  great  landowner. 
To  have  thousands  of  peasants  dependent  upon 
one's  frown.  To  have  the  opportunity  of  lifting 
them  into  something  useful  and  good.  And  to 
spend  one's  hours  and  find  one's  pleasure  in  such 
things  as  this!  Riding  one's  favorite  horse  at  the 
risk  of  its  and  one's  own  neck,  up  and  down  the 
stairs.  Ah!  I  congratulate  you,  Prince!" 

He  drew  himself  up  again,  as  if  she  had  hit  him, 
and  the  pain  in  his  eyes  turned  to  flame. 

"I  allow  no  one  to  criticize  my  conduct,"  he 
said.  "If  it  amused  me  to  ride  a  bear  into  this 
room  and  let  it  eat  you  up,  I  would  not  hesitate." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  and  Tamara  laughed 
scornfully.  "It  would  be  in  a  piece  with  all  the 
rest." 

He  raised  his  head  with  an  angry  toss,  and  then 
they  looked  at  each  other  like  two  fighting  cats, 
when  fortunately  the  door  opened,  and  the  Princess 
came  in. 

130 


HIS  HOUR 

In  a  moment  he  had  laughed,  and  resumed  his 
habitually  insouciant  mien. 

"Madame  has  been  reading  me  a  lecture,"  he 
said.  "She  thinks  I  am  wasted  in  the  Emperor's 
escort,  and  a  circus  is  my  place." 

Tamara  did  not  speak. 

"Why  do  you  seem  always  to  quarrel  so, 
Gritzko?"  the  Princess  said,  plaintively.  "It 
really  quite  upsets  me,  dear  boy." 

"You  must  not  worry,  Tantine,"  and  he  kissed 
the  Princess'  hand.  "We  don't  quarrel;  we  are 
the  best  of  friends;  only  we  tell  one  another  home 
truths.  I  came  this  afternoon  to  ask  you  if  you 
will  come  to  Milasldv  next  week.  I  think  Madame 
ought  to  see  Moscow,  and  we  might  make  an 
excursion  from  there  just  for  a  night,"  and  he 
looked  at  Tamara  with  a  lifting  of  the  brows. 

"Then,  Tantine,  she  could  see  how  I  cow  my 
peasants  with  a  knout,  and  grind  them  to  starva- 
tion. It  would  be  an  interesting  picture  for  her  to 
take  back  to  England." 

"I  should  enjoy  all  that  immensely,  of  course," 
Tamara  said,  pleasantly.  "Many  thanks,  Prince." 

"I  shall  be  so  honored,"  and  he  bowed  politely; 
131 


HIS  HOUR 

then,  turning  to  the  Princess:  "You  will  settle  it, 
won't  you,  Tantine?" 

"I  will  look  at  our  engagements,  dear  boy.  We 
will  try  to  arrange  it.  I  can  t^ell  you  at  the  ballet," 
and  the  Princess  smiled  encouragingly  up  at  him. 
"My  godchild  has  not  seen  our  national  dancing 
yet,  so  we  go  to-night  with  Prince  Miklefski  and 
Valonne." 

"Then  it  is  au  revoir,"  he  said,  and  kissing  their 
hands  he  left  them. 

When  the  door  was  shut  and  they  were  alone. 

"Tamara,  what  had  you  said  to  Gritzko  to  move 
him  so?"  the  Princess  asked.  "I,  who  know  every 
line  of  his  face,  tell  you  I  have  not  seen  him  so 
moved  since  his  mother's  death." 

So  Tamara  told  her,  describing  the  scene. 

"My  dear,  you  touched  him  in  a  tender  spot," 
her  godmother  said.  "His  mother  was  a  saint  al- 
most to  those  people  at  Milaslav;  they  worshipped 
her.  She  was  very  beautiful  and  very  sweet,  and 
after  her  husband's  death  she  spent  nearly  all  her 
life  there.  She  started  schools  to  teach  the  peasants 
useful  things,  and  she  encouraged  them  and  cared 
for  their  health;  and  her  great  wish  was  that 
132 


HIS  HOUR 

Gritzko  should  carry  out  her  schemes.  She  was 
no  advanced  Liberal,  the  late  Princess,  but  she 
had  such  a  tender  heart,  she  longed  to  bring 
happiness  to  those  in  her  keeping,  and  teach  them 
to  find  happiness  themselves." 

"And  he  has  let  it  all  slide,  I  suppose,"  Tamara 
said. 

"  Well,  not  exactly  that,"  and  the  Princess  sighed 
deeply;  "but  I  dare  say  these  over  gay  companions 
of  his  do  not  leave  him  much  time  for  the  arrange- 
ment such  things  require.  Ah!  if  you  knew, 
Tamara,"  she  went  on,  "how  fond  I  am  of  that 
boy,  and  how  I  feel  the  great  and  noble  parts  of 
his  character  are  running  to  waste,  you  would 
understand  my  grief." 

"You  are  so  kind,  dear  Marraine,"  Tamara 
said.  "But  surely  he  must  be  very  weak." 

"No,  he  is  not  weak;  it  is  a  dare-devil  wild  strain 
in  him  that  seems  as  if  it  must  out.  He  has  a  will 
of  iron,  and  never  breaks  his  word;  only  to  get  him 
to  be  serious,  or  give  his  word,  is  as  yet  an  unac- 
complished task.  I  sometimes  think  if  a  great 
love  could  come  into  his  life  it  would  save  him— 
his  whole  soul  could  wake  to  that." 
133 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara  looked  down  and  clasped  her  hands. 

"But  it  does  not  seem  likely  to  happen,  does  it, 
Marraine  ?" 

The  Princess  sighed  again. 

"I  would  like  him  to  love  you,  dear  child,"  she 
said;  amd  then  as  Tamara  did  not  answer  she  went 
on  softly  almost  to  herself:  "My  brother  Alexis 
was  just  such  another  as  Gritzko.  That  season 
he  spent  with  me  in  London,  when  your  mother 
and  I  were  young,  he  played  all  sorts  of  wild  pranks. 
We  three  were  always  together.  He  was  killed  in 
a  duel  after,  you  know.  It  was  all  very  sad." 

Tamara  stroked  her  godmother's  hand. 

"Dear,  dear  Marraine,"  she  said. 

Then  they  checked  sentiment  and  went  to  dress 
for  dinner,  arm  in  arm.  They  had  grown  real 
friends  in  these  three  short  weeks. 


CHAPTER  X 

/•^*  *  HE  scene  at  the  ballet  was  most  brilliant, 
A    ^»  as  it  is  always  on  a  Sunday  night.     The 
great    auditorium,    with    its    blue    silk- 
curtained  boxes,  the  mass  of  glittering  uniforms, 
and   the   ladies   in   evening-dress,    although    they 
were  all  in  black,  made  a  gay  spectacle  almost  like 
a  gala  night.    Then  it  is  so  delightf  ul  to  have  one's 
eyes  pleased  with  what  is  on  the  stage  and  yet  be 
able  to  talk. 

But  Tamara,  as  she  sat  and  looked  at  it,  was  not 
enjoying  herself.  She  was  overcome  with  a  vague 
feeling  of  unrest.  She  hated  having  to  admit  that 
the  Prince  was  the  cause  of  it.  She  could  not  look 
ahead;  she  was  full  of  fear.  She  knew  now  that 
when  he  was  near  her  she  experienced  certain 
emotion,  that  he  absorbed  far  too  much  of  her 
thoughts.  He  did  not  really  care  for  her  probably, 
and  if  he  did,  how  could  one  hope  to  be  happy  with 
such  a  wild,  fierce  man  ?  No,  she  must  control  her- 
self; she  must  conquer  his  influence  over  her,  and 
135 


HIS  HOUR 

if  she  could  not  she  could  at  least  go  away.  Eng- 
land seemed  very  uninteresting  and  calm — and 
safe! 

Filled  with  these  sage  resolutions  she  tried  to 
fix  her  eyes  on  the  stage,  but  unconsciously  they 
continually  strayed  to  a  tall  blue  figure  which  was 
seated  in  the  front  row  of  the  stalls  with  a  number 
of  officers  of  the  Chevaliers  Gardes.  And  when 
the  curtain  went  down, — and  instead  of  the  Prince 
joining  them  in  the  box,  as  she  fully  expected  he 
would  do,  he  calmly  leaned  against  the  orchestra 
division  and  surveyed  the  house  with  his  glasses — 
she  felt  a  sudden  pang,  and  talked  as  best  she  might 
to  the  many  friends  who  thronged  to  pay  the 
Princess  court. 

Gritzko  did  not  even  glance  their  way!  he  stood 
laughing  with  his  comrades,  and  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  imagine  anything  more  insouci- 
ant and  attractive  and  provoking  than  the  creature 
looked. 

"No  wonder  Tatiane  She"banoff  is  in  love  with 
him — or  that  actress — or — the  rest!"  Tamara 
thought. 

And  then  a  wave  of  rage  swept  over  her.  She 
136 


HIS  HOUR 

at  least  would  not  give  in  and  join  this  throng! 
To  be  his  plaything.  She  would  be  mistress  of 
herself  and  her  thoughts! 

But  alas!  all  these  emotions  not  unmixed  with 
pique,  spoilt  the  ballet's  second  act! 

For  the  interval  after  it,  the  two  ladies  got  up 
and  went  into  the  little  ante-chamber  beyond  the 
box.  Tamara  was  glad.  There  she  could  not  see 
what  this  annoying  Prince  would  do. 

What  he  did  do  was  to  open  the  door  in  a  few 
minutes  and  saunter  in.  He  greeted  Tamara  with 
polite  indifference,  and  having  calmly  displaced 
Count  Valonne,  sat  down  by  the  Princess'  side. 

Valonne  was  a  charming  person,  and  he  and 
Tamara  were  great  friends.  He  chatted  on  now, 
and  she  smiled  at  him,  but  with  ears  preternaturally 
sharpened  she  heard  the  conversation  of  the  other 
pair. 

It  was  this. 

"Tantine,  I  am  feeling  the  absolute  devil  to- 
night. Will  you  come  and  have  supper  with  me 
after  this  infernal  ballet  is  over  ?" 

"  Gritzko — what  is  it  ?    Something  has  disturbed 


you!" 


137 


HIS  HOUR 

He  leant  forward  and  rested  his  chin  on  his 
hands.  "Well,  your  haughty  guest  touched  me 
with  too  sharp  a  spur,  perhaps,"  he  said,  "but  she 
was  right.  -  I  do  waste  my  life.  I  have  been  think- 
ing of  my  mother.  I  believe  she  might  not  be 
pleased  with  me  sometimes.  And  then  I  felt  mad, 
aud  now  I  must  do  something  to  forget.  So  if  you 
won't  sup " 

"Oh!  Gritzko!"  the  Princess  said. 

"I  telephoned  home  and  ordered  things  to  be 
ready.  I  know  you  don't  like  a  restaurant.  Say 
you  will  come,"  and  he  kissed  her  hand.  "I  have 
asked  all  the  rest."  And  the  Princess  had  to 
consent! 

"You  must  promise  not  to  quarrel  any  more 
with  my  godchild  if  we  do.  I  am  sure  you  frighten 
and  upset  her,  Gritzko — promise  me,"  she  said. 
He  laughed. 

"I  upset  her!  She  is  too  cold  and  good  to  be 
upset!" 

Tamara  still  continued  to  talk  to  Valonne,  and 

presently  they  all  moved  into  the  box,   and  the 

Prince  sat  down  beside  her,  and  again  as  he  leaned 

over  in  the  shaded  light  that  nameless  physical 

138 


HIS  HOUR 

thrill  crept  over  her.  Was  she  really  cold,  she 
asked  herself.  If  so,  why  should  she  shiver  as  she 
was  shivering  now  ? 

"I  wonder  if  you  have  any  heart  at  all,  Ma- 
dame?" he  said.  "If  under  the  mummy's  wrap- 
pings there  is  some  flesh  and  blood?" 

Then  she  turned  and  answered  him  with  passion. 
"Of  course  there  is,"  she  said. 

He  bent  over  still  nearer.  "Just  for  to-night, 
shall  we  not  quarrel  or  spar  ?"  he  whispered.  "  See, 
I  will  treat  you  as  a  sister  and  friend.  I  want  to  be 
petted  and  spoilt — I  am  sad." 

Tamara,  of  course,  melted  at  once!  His  extra- 
ordinarily attractive  voice  was  very  deep  and  had 
a  note  in  it  which  touched  her  heart. 

"Please  don't  be  sad,"  she  said  softly.  "Perhaps 
you  think  I  was  unkind  to-day,  but  indeed  it  was 
only  because — Oh!  because  it  seemed  to  me  such 
waste  that  you — you  should  be  like  that." 

"It  hurt  like  the  fiend,  you  know,"  he  said, 
"the  thought  of  the  damned  circus.  I  think  we 
are  particularly  sensitive  as  a  race  to  those  sort  of 
things.  If  you  had  been  a  man  I  would  have  killed 
you." 

10  139 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  hated  to  hear  what  you  told  me,"  and  Tamara 
looked  down.  "It  seemed  so  dreadful — so  barbaric 
— and  so  childish  for  a  man  who  really  has  a  brain. 
If  you  were  just  an  animal  person  like  some  of  the 
others  are,  it  would  not  have  mattered;  but  you — 
please  I  would  like  you  never  to  do  any  of  these 
mad  things  again " 

Then  she  stopped  suddenly  and  grew  tenderly 
pink.  She  realized  the  inference  he  must  read  in 
her  words. 

He  did  not  speak  for  a  moment,  only  devoured 
her  with  his  great  blue-gray  eyes.  Of  what  he  was 
thinking  she  did  not  know.  It  made  her  uncom- 
fortable and  a  little  ashamed.  Why  had  she 
melted,  it  was  never  any  use.  So  she  drew  herself 
up  stiffly  and  leaned  back  in  her  seat. 

Then  down  at  the  side  by  the  folds  of  her  dress 
he  caught  her  hand  while  he  said  quite  low: 

"Madame,  I  must  know — do  you  mean 
that?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  and  tried  to  take  away  her 
hand.     "Yes,  I  mean  that  I  think  it  dreadful  for 
any  human  being  to  throw  things  away — and  Oh! 
I  would  like  you  to  be  very  great." 
140 


HIS  HOUR 

He  did  not  let  go  her  hand,  indeed  he  held  it 
the  more  tightly. 

"You  are  a  dear  after  all,  and  I  will  try,"  he 
said.  "And  when  I  have  pleased  you  you  must 
give  me  a  reward." 

"Alas!  What  reward  could  I  give  you,  Prince," 
she  sighed. 

"That  I  will  tell  you  when  the  time  comes." 

Thus  peace  seemed  to  be  restored,  and  soon  the 
curtain  fell  for  the  interval  before  the  last  act,  and 
the  Prince  got  up  and  went  out  of  the  box. 

He  did  not  reappear  again,  but  was  waiting  for 
them  to  start  for  his  house. 

"I  met  Stephen  Strong,  Tantine,"  he  said. 
"  He  left  me  at  Trieste,  you  know,  and  only  arrived 
in  Petersburg  to-day.  He  has  got  a  cousin  with 
him,  Lord  something,  so  I  have  asked  them  both 
to  come  along.  They  will  be  a  little  late  they  said." 

"It  is  not  Jack  Courtray  by  chance — is  it?" 
Tamara  asked,  in  an  interested  voice,  as  they 
went.  "Mr.  Strong  has  a  cousin  who  lives  near 
us  in  the  country  and  he  is  always  traveling  about." 

"Yes,  I  think  that  is  the  name — Courtray.  So 
you  know  him  then !"  and  the  Prince  leant  forward 
141 


HIS  HOUR 

from  the  seat  which  faced  them.  "An  ami 
d  'enf  ance  ?" 

"We  used  to  play  cricket  and  fish  and  bird's- 
nest,"  she  said.  "Tom — my  brother  Tom — was 
his  fag  at  Eton — he  is  one  of  my  oldest  friends — • 
dear  old  Jack." 

"How  fortunate  I  met  him  to-night!" 

"Indeed,   yes." 

Then  her  attention  was  diverted,  as  it  always 
was  each  time  she  saw  the  blazing  braziers  and 
heaped  up  flaming  piles  of  wood  at  the  corners  of 
the  streets,  since  she  had  been  in  Russia.  "How 
glad  I  am  there  is  something  to  make  the  poor 
people  warm,"  she  said. 

"When  it  gets  below  twelve  degrees  it  is  difficult 
to  enjoy  life,  certainly,"  the  Prince  agreed.  "And, 
indeed,  it  is  hard  sometimes  not  to  freeze." 

It  was  a  strange  lurid  picture,  the  Isvostchiks 
drawn  round,  while  the  patient  horses  with  their 
sleighs  stood  quiet  some  little  distance  off. 

How  hard  must  existence  be  to  these  poor 
things. 

Supper  could  not  be  ready  for  half  an  hour,  the 
Prince  told  them  when  they  got  to  the  Fontonka 
142 


HIS  HOUR 

House,  and  as  they  all  arrived  more  or  less 
together,  they  soon  paired  off  for  bridge. 

"  I  am  going  to  show  Mrs.  Loraine  my  pictures," 
the  host  said.  "She  admires  our  Catherine  and 
Peter  the  Great." 

And  in  the  salon  where  they  all  sat,  he  began 
pointing  out  this  one  and  that,  making  comments 
in  a  distrait  voice.  But  when  they  came  to  the 
double  doors  at  the  end  he  opened  them  wide, 
and  led  Tamara  into  another  great  room. 

"This  is  the  ballroom,"  he  said.  "It  is  like  all 
ballrooms,  so  we  shall  not  linger  over  that.  I 
have  two  Rembrandts  in  my  own  apartment 
beyond  which  it  may  interest  you  to  see,  and  a 
few  other  relics  of  the  past." 

He  was  perfectly  matter  of  fact,  his  manner 
had  not  a  shade  of  gallantry  in  it,  and  Tamara 
accepted  this  new  situation  and  followed  him  with- 
out a  backward  thought. 

They  seemed  to  go  through  several  sheet-shrouded 
salons  and  came  out  into  a  thoroughly  comfortable 
room.  Its  general  aspect  of  decoration  had  a 
Byzantine  look,  and  on  the  floor  were  several 
magnificent  bear  skins,  while  around  the  walls 
143 


HIS  HOUR 

low  bookcases  with  quantities  of  books  stood. 
And  above  them  many  arms  were  crossed.  Over 
the  mantlepiece  a  famous  Rembrandt  frowned, 
and  another  from  the  opposite  wall.  But  it  was 
strange  there  were  no  photographs  of  dancers  or 
actresses  about  as  Tamara  would  have  thought. 

The  Prince  talked  intelligently.  He  seemed  to 
know  of  such  things  as  pictures,  and  understood 
their  technique.  And  if  he  had  been  an  elderly 
art  critic  he  could  not  have  been  more  aloof. 

Presently  Tamara  noticed  underneath  the  first 
picture  there  was  hung  a  quaint  sword.  Some- 
thing in  its  shape  and  workmanship  attracted  her 
attention,  and  she  asked  its  history. 

The  Prince  took  it  down  and  placed  it  in  her 
hand. 

"That  sword  belonged  to  a  famous  person," 
he  said — "a  Cossack — Stenko  Razin  was  his  name 
— a  robber  and  a  brigand  and  a  great  chief.  He 
loved  a  lady,  a  Persian  Princess  whom  he  had 
captured,  and  one  day  when  out  on  his  yacht  on 
the  Volga,  being  drunk  from  a  present  of  brandy 
some  Dutch  travellers  had  brought  him,  he  clasped 
her  in  his  arms.  She  was  very  beautiful  and 
144 


HIS  HOUR 

gentle  and  full  of  exquisite  caresses,  and  he  loved 
her  more  than  all  his  wealth.  But  mad  thoughts 
mounted  to  his  brain,  and  after  making  an  oration 
to  the  Volga  for  all  the  riches  and  plunder  she  had 
brought  him,  he  reproached  himself  that  he  had 
never  given  this  river  anything  really  valuable 
in  return,  and  then  exclaiming  he  would  repair 
his  fault,  unclasped  the  clinging  arms  of  his  mis- 
tress and  flung  her  overboard." 

"What  a  horrible  brute!"  exclaimed  Tamara, 
and  she  put  down  the  sword. 

The  Prince  took  it  up  and  drew  it  from  its  sheath. 

"The  Cossacks  had  a  wild  strain  in  them  even 
in  those  days,"  he  said.  "You  must  not  be  too 
hard  on  me  for  merely  riding  my  horse!" 

"Would  you  be  cruel  like  that,  too,  Prince?" 
Tamara  asked;  and  she  sat  down  for  a  second  on 
the  arm  of  a  carved  chair.  And  when  he  had  put 
the  sword  back  in  its  place,  he  bent  forward  and 
leaned  on  the  back  of  it. 

"Yes,  I  could  be  cruel,  I  expect,"  he  said.     "I 

could   be  even   brutal   if  I   were  jealous,   or  the 

woman  I  loved  played  me  false,  but  I  would  not 

be  cruel  to  her  while  it  hurt  myself.     Razin  lost 

145 


HIS  HOUR 

his  pleasure  for  days  through  one  mad  personal 
act.  It  would  have  been  more  sensible  to  have 
kept  her  until  he  was  tired  of  her,  or  she  had 
grown  cold  to  him.  Don't  you  agree  with  me  about 
that  ?" 

"It  is  a  horrible  history  and  I  hate  it,"  Tamara 
said.  "Such  ways  I  do  not  understand.  For  me 
love  means  something  tender  and  true  which 
could  never  want  to  injure  the  thing  it  loved." 

He  looked  at  her  gravely. 

"Lately  I  have  wondered  what  love  could  mean 
for  me.  Tell  me  what  you  think,  Madame,"  he 
said. 

She  resolved  not  to  allow  any  emotion  to  master 
her,  though  she  was  conscious  of  a  sudden  beating 
of  her  heart. 

"You  would  torture  sometimes,  and  then  you 
would  caress." 

"I  would  certainly  caress." 

He  moved  from  his  position  and  walked  across 
the  room,  while  he  talked  as  though  the  words 
burst  from  him. 

"Yes,  I  should  demand  unquestioning  surrender, 
-and  if  it  were  refused  me,  then  I  might  be  cruel. 
146 


HIS  HOUR 

And  if  my  love  were  cold  or  capricious,  then  I 
would  leave  her.  But  if  she  loved  me  truly — my 
God,  it  would  be  bliss." 

"Think  how  it  would  hurt  her  when  you  did 
those  foolish  things  though,"  Tamara  said. 

He  stopped  short  in  his  restless  walk. 

"No  one  does  foolish  things  when  he  is  happy, 
Madame.  All  such  outbursts  are  the  froth  of  a 
soul  in  its  seething.  But  if  one  were  satisfied — " 
he  paused,  and  then  he  went  on  again.  "Oh! 
If  you  knew! — In  the  desert  in  Egypt  I  used  to 
think  I  had  found  rest,  sometimes.  I  am  sated 
with  this  life  here.  A  quoi  bon,  Madame! — the 
same  thing  year  after  year! — and  then  since  I  have 
known  you.  I  have  wondered  if  perhaps  you  in 
your  country  could  teach  me  peace." 

"So  many  of  you  are  so  de'sequilibre's,"  Tamara 
said.  "You  seem  to  be  so  polished  and  sensible 
and  even  great,  and  then  in  a  moment  you  are  off 
at  a  tangent,  displaying  that  want  of  discipline 
that  we  at  home  would  not  permit  in  a  child." 

"Yes  it  is  true." 

"It  seems  that  you  love,  and  must  have,  or  you 
hate  and  must  kill.  There  are  storms  and  passions, 
147 


HIS  HOUR 

and  the  gaiety  of  children  and  their  irresponsibility, 
and  all  on  the  top  is  good  manners  and  smiles,  but 
underneath — I  have  a  feeling  I  know  not  what 
volcano  may  burst." 

"To-night  I  feel  one  could  flame  with  me." 
He  came  up  close  now  and  looked  into  her  eyes, 
as  if  he  were  going  to  say  something,  and  then  he 
restrained  himself. 

Tamara  did  not  move,  she  looked  at  him 
gravely. 

"You  all  seem  as  if  you  had  no  aim,"  she  said. 
"You  are  not  interested  in  the  politics  of  your 
country.  You  don't  seem  to  do  anything  but  kill 
time— Why  ?" 

"Our  country!"  he  said,  and  he  flung  himself 
into  a  seat  near.  "It  would  be  difficult  to  make 
you  understand  about  that.  In  the  old  days  of  the 
serfs,  it  was  all  very  well.  One  could  be  a  good 

landlord   and  father  to  them  all,  but  now " 

Then  he  got  up  restlessly  and  paced  the  room. 
"Now  there  are  so  many  questions.  If  one  would 
think  it  would  drive  one  mad,  but  I  am  a  soldier, 
Madame,  so  I  do  not  permit  myself  to  speculate 
at  all." 

148 


HIS  HOUR 

"Things  are  not  then  as  you  would  wish?"  she 
asked. 

"As  I  would  wish — no,  not  as  I  would  wish — 
but  as  I  told  you,  I  do  not  mix  myself  up  with 
them.  I  only  obey  the  Emperor  and  shall  to  the 
end  of  my  life." 

Tamara  saw  she  had  stirred  too  deep  waters. 
His  face  wore  a  look  of  profound  melancholy.  She 
had  never  felt  so  drawn  toward  him.  She  let  her 
eyes  take  in  the  picture  he  made.  There  was 
something  very  noble  about  his  brow  and  the  set 
of  his  head.  Who  could  tell  what  thoughts  were 
working  in  his  brain.  Presently  he  got  up  again 
and  knelt  by  her  side — his  movements  had  the 
grace  and  agility  of  a  cat.  He  took  her  hand  and 
kissed  it. 

"Madame,  please  don't  make  me  think,"  he 
said.  "The  question  is  too  great  for  one  man  to 
help.  I  do  not  go  with  the  Liberals  or  any  of  the 
revolt.  Indeed  I  am  far  on  the  other  side.  Good 
to  this  country  should  all  have  come  in  a  different, 
finer  way,  and  now  it  must  work  out  its  own  sal- 
vation as  best  it  may.  For  me,  my  only  duty  is 
to  my  master.  Nothing  else  could  count."  His 
149 


HIS  HOUR 

eyes  which  looked  into  hers  seemed  great  sombre 
pools  of  unrest  and  pain. 

She  did  not  take  away  her  hand  and  he  kissed 
it  again.  ' 

Then  the  clock  on  the  mantlepiece  chimed  one, 
and  she  started  to  her  feet. 

"Oh!  Prince,  should  we  not  be  thinking  of 
supper,"  she  said.  "Come,  let  us  forget  we  have 
been  serious  and  go  back  and  eat!" 

He  rose. 

"They  have  probably  gone  in  without  us,  they 
know  me  so  well,"  he  said;  "but  as  you  say,  we 
will  no  more  be  serious,  we  will  laugh." 

Then  he  took  her  hand,  and  merrily,  like  two 
children,  they  ran  through  all  the  big  empty 
rooms  to  find  exactly  what  he  had  predicted  had 
occurred.  The  party  were  at  supper  quite 
unconcerned ! 

It  was  such  a  gay  scene.  Princess  Sonia  and 
Serge  Grekoff  were  busily  cutting  raw  ham,  by 
their  places;  while  others  drank  tea  or  vodka 
or  champagne,  or  helped  themselves  from  various 
dishes  the  servants  had  brought  up.  There  was 
no  ceremony  or  stiffness,  each  one  did  as  he  pleased. 
150 


HIS  HOUR 

And  there  sitting  by  Olga  Gle"boff,  already  per- 
fectly at  home,  was  Lord  Courtray;  and  further 
down  the  Princess  Arddcheff  sat  by  Stephen  Strong. 

"Gritzko — we  could  not  wait!"  Countess  Olga 
said. 

Then  both  the  Englishmen  got  up  and  greeted 
Tamara. 

"Fancy  seeing  you  here,  Tamara!  What  a  bit 
of  luck!"  Jack  Courtray  said. 


CHAPTER  XI 

JACK  COURTRAY  was  a  thoroughly  good 
all-around  sportsman,  and  had  an  immense 
success  with  women  as  a  rule.  His  methods 
were  primitive  and  direct.  When  not  hunting  or 
shooting,  he  went  straight  to  the  point  with  a 
beautiful  simplicity  unhampered  by  sentiment, 
and  then  when  wearied  with  one  woman,  moved 
on  to  the  next. 

He  was  a  tremendously  good  fellow  every  man 
said.  Just  a  natural  animal  creature,  whom  groom- 
ing and  polishing  in  the  family  for  some  hundred 
or  so  of  years  had  made  into  a  gentleman. 

He  was  as  ignorant  as  he  could  well  be.  To 
him  the  geography  of  the  world  meant  different 
places  for  sport.  India  represented  tigers  and 
elephants.  It  had  no  towns  or  histories  that 
mattered,  it  had  jungles  and  forests.  Africa  said 
lions.  Austria,  chamois — and  Russia,  bears! 

Women  were  either  sisters,  or  old  friends  and 
jolly  comrades — like  Tamara.  Or  they  came  under 
152 


HIS  HOUR 

the  category  of  sport.  A  lesser  sport,  to  be  indulged 
in  when  the  rarer  beasts  were  not  obtainable  for 
his  gun — but  still  sport! 

He  found  himself  in  a  delightful  milieu.  The 
prospect  of  certain  bears  in  the  near  future — a 
dear  old  friend  to  frolic  with  in  the  immediate 
present,  and  the  problematic  joys  of  a  possible 
affair  to  be  indulged  in  meanwhile.  No  wonder 
he  was  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  when  Tamara, 
without  arri&re  pensee,  took  the  empty  place  at 
his  side,  he  bent  over  her  and  filled  her  plate  with 
the  thinnest  ham  he  had  been  able  to  cut,  with  all 
the  apparent  air  of  a  devoted  lover.  And  if  she 
had  looked  up  she  would  have  seen  that  the  Prince 
suddenly  had  begun  to  watch  her  with  a  fierceness 
in  his  eyes. 

"This  is  a  jolly  place,"  Jack  Courtray  said.  He 
had  just  the  faintest  lisp,  which  sounded  rather 
attractive,  and  Tamara,  after  the  storms  and 
emotions  of  the  past  few  days,  found  a  distinct 
pleasure  and  rest  in  his  obviousness. 

It  is  an  ill  wind  which  blows  no  one  any  good, 
for  presently  the  Prince  turned  and  devoted  him- 
self to  Tatiane  She"banoff. 
153 


HIS  HOUR 

She  was  quite  the  prettiest  of  all  this  little  clique, 
petite  and  fair  and  sweet.  Divorced  from  a  brute 
of  a  husband  a  year  or  so  ago,  and  now  married  to 
an  elderly  Prince. 

And  she  loved  Gritzko  with  passion,  and  while 
she  was  silent  about  it,  her  many  friends  told 
him  so. 

For  his  part  he  remained  unconcerned,  and 
sometimes  troubled  himself  about  her,  and  some- 
times not. 

And  so  the  evening  wore  on,  and  apparently  it 
had  no  distinct  sign  that  it  was  to  be  one  of  the 
finger-posts  of  fate. 

When  all  had  finished  supper,  they  moved  back 
into  another  great  room. 

"You  must  notice  this,  Tamara,  it  is  very  Rus- 
sian," her  godmother  said. 

It  was  an  immense  apartment  with  a  great 
porcelain  stove  at  one  corner,  and  panelled  with 
wood,  and  it  suggested  to  Tamara,  for  no  sane 
reason,  something  of  an  orthodox  church!  One 
end  was  bare,  and  the  other  carpeted  with  great 
Persian  rugs,  had  huge  divans  spread  about; 
there  was  an  electric  piano  and  an  organ,  and 
154 


HIS  HOUR 

there   were    also    crossed   foils,    and    masks,    and 
everything  for  a  fencing  bout. 

The  Prince  went  to  the  piano  and  started  a 
valse.  Then  he  came  up  to  Tamara  and  asked 
her  to  dance. 

There  was  no  trace  left  of  his  respectful  friendli- 
ness! His  sleepy  eyes  were  blazing,  he  had  never 
looked  more  oriental,  or  more  savage,  or  more 
intense. 

It  was  almost  with  a  thrill  of  fear  that  Tamara 
yielded  herself  to  his  request.  He  clasped  her  so 
tightly  she  could  hardly  breathe,  all  she  knew  was 
she  seemed  to  be  floating  in  the  air,  and  to  be 
crushed  against  his  breast. 

"Prince,  please,  I  am  suffocating!"  she  cried 
at  last. 

Then  he  swung  her  off  her  feet,  and  stopped 
by  an  armchair,  and  Tamara  subsided  into  it, 
panting,  not  able  to  speak.  And  all  across  her 
milk-white  chest  there  were  a  row  of  red  marks 
from  the  heavy  silver  cartridges,  which  cross  in 
two  rows  in  the  Cossack  dress. 

"I  would  like  those  brands  of  me  to  last  forever," 
the  Prince  said. 

11  155 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara  lay  back  in  the  chair  a  prey  to  tumul- 
tuous emotions.  She  ought  to  be  disgusted  she 
supposed,  and  of  course  she  was — such  an  unciv- 
ilized horrible  thought!  but  at  the  same  time  every 
nerve  was  tingling  and  her  pulse  was  beating  with 
the  strange  thrills  she  had  only  lately  begun  to 
dream  of. 

"Tamara!  By  jove!  What  have  you  done  to 
your  neck?"  Jack  Courtray  said,  as  he 
came  up. 

And  Tamara  was  glad  she  had  a  gauze  scarf 
over  her  arm,  which  she  wrapped  around  care- 
lessly as  she  said: 

"Nothing,  Jack — let's  dance!" 

"  What  an  awfully  decent  chap  our  host  is,  isn't 
he!"  Lord  Courtray  said,  as  they  ambled  along 
in  their  valse.  "And  jolly  good-looking  too — for 
a  foreigner.  These  Russians  are  men  after  my 
own  heart!" 

"Yes,  he  is  good-looking,"  admitted  Tamara. 
"If  he  weren't  so  wild;  but  don't  you  think  he 
has  a  frightfully  savage  expression,  Jack?" 

"If  you  are  intending  to  play  with  him,  old  girl, 
take  my  advice,  you  had  better  look  out,"  and  he 
156 


HIS  HOUR 

laughed  his  merry  laugh  as  they  stopped  because 
the  piano  stopped. 

Meanwhile  the  Prince  had  left  the  room. 

"Gritzko  has  gone  to  telephone  for  a  Tzigane 
band,"  Princess  Sonia  said.  "And  to  the  club 
and  to  the  reception  at  Madame  Sueboffs,  and 
soon  we  shall  have  enough  people  for  a  contre- 
danse — and  some  real  fun." 

That  it  was  almost  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 
never  seemed  to  have  struck  anyone! 

"Now,  tell  me  everything,  Tamara,"  Lord 
Courtray  said,  as  they  sat  down  on  one  of  the  big 
divans.  "  Give  me  a  few  wrinkles.  I  can  see  one 
wants  to  comprehend  these  tent  ropes." 

"Well,  first  they  are  the  nicest  people  you 
could  possibly  meet,  Jack,"  Tamara  said.  "And 
don't  imagine  because  they  skylark  like  this,  and 
sit  up  all  night,  that  they  aren't  most  dignified 
when  they  have  to  be.  That  is  their  charm,  this 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things.  They  have  not  got 
to  have  any  pretence  like  some  of  us  have.  Not 
one  of  them  has  a  scrap  of  pose.  They  are  nice 
to  you  because  they  like  you,  or  they  leave  you 
entirely  alone  if  they  do  not.  And  some  days 
157 


HIS  HOUR 

when  they  are  all  together  they  will  whisper  and 
titter  and  have  jokes  among  themselves,  leaving 
you  completely  out  in  the  cold — what  would  really 
be  fearful  ill-manners  with  us,  but  it  is  not  in  the 
least,  it  is  just  they  have  forgotten  you  are  there, 
and  as  likely  as  not  you  will  be  the  center  of  the 
whispering  in  the  next  minute.  They  are  all  like 
volcanoes  with  the  most  beautiful  Faberger  enamel 
on  the  top." 

"And  the  men?  I  suppose  they  make  awful 
love  ?" 

"I  don't  think  so,"  went  on  Tamara,  while  she 
stupidly  blushed.  "They  all  seem  to  be  just 
merry  friends,  and  the  young  ones  don't  go  out 
very  much.  I  don't  mean  the  quite,  quite  young 
who  dance  with  girls,  but  the  young  men.  My 
godmother  says  they  are  very  hard  worked,  and  in 
their  leisure  they  like  to  have  dinners  in  their  regi- 
ments— or  at  restaurants — with,  with  other  sort 
of  ladies,  where  they  can  do  what  they  please.  It 
seems  a  little  elementary— don't  you  think  so?" 

"Jolly  common-sense!"     said  Jack  Courtray. 

"And  then,  you  see,  if  by  chance,  when  they  are 
in  the  world,  if  they  do  fall  in  love,  it  is  possible 
158 


HIS  HOUR 

for  the  lady  to  get  a  divorce  here  without  any 
scandal  and  fuss,  and  the  whole  clan  stick  to  their 
own  member,  no  matter  how  much  in  the  wrong 
she  may  be,  and  so  all  is  arranged,  and  life  seems 
much  simpler  and  apparently  happier  than  it  is 
with  us.  If  it  is  really  so  I  cannot  say,  I  have  not 
been  here  long  enough  to  judge." 

"It  sounds  a  kind  of  Utopia,"  and  Lord  Courtray 
laughed.  And  just  then  the  Prince  came  into  the 
room  again,  and  over  to  them  and  they  got  up  and 
the  two  men  went  off  together  to  examine  the  foils. 

Presently  the  band  arrived  and  more  guests, 
and  soon  the  contre-danse  was  begun.  That 
grown-up  people  could  seriously  take  pleasure  in 
this  amazing  romp  was  a  new  and  delightful  idea 
to  Tamara. 

It  was  a  sort  of  enormous  quadrille  with  numer- 
ous figures  and  f  arandole,  while  one  sat  on  a  chair 
between  the  figures,  as  at  a  cotillon.  And  toward 
the  end  the  company  stamped  and  cried,  and  the 
band  sang,  and  nothing  could  have  been  more  gay 
and  exciting  and  wild. 

Before  they  began,  the  Prince  came  up  to  Tamara 
and  said: 

159 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  want  you  to  dance  this  with  me.  I  have 
had  it  on  purpose  to  show  you  a  real  Russian 
sight." 

They  haxl  moved  into  the  ballroom  by  then, 
which  was  now  a  blaze  of  light,  while  as  if  by 
magic  the  sheet  coverings  had  been  removed  from 
the  chairs. 

And  the  Prince  exerted  himself  to  amuse  and 
please  his  partner,  and  did  not  again  clasp  her  too 
tight,  only  whenever  she  had  turns  with  her  country- 
man, his  eyes  would  flame,  and  he  would  immedi- 
ately interrupt  them  and  carry  her  off. 

Tamara  felt  perfectly  happy,  she  was  no  longer 
analyzing  and  questioning,  and  she  was  no  longer 
fighting  against  her  inclination.  She  abandoned 
herself  to  the  rushing  stream  of  life. 

It  was  about  five  o'clock  when  some  one  sug- 
gested supper  at  the  Islands  was  now  the  proper 
thing.  This  was  the  delightful  part  about  them 
— on  no  occasion  was  there  ever  a  halt  for  the  con- 
sideration of  ways  and  means.  They  wanted 
some  particular  amusement  and — had  it!  Con- 
vention, from  an  English  point  of  view,  remained 
an  unknown  quantity. — Now  those  who  decided 
160 


HIS  HOUR 

to  continue  the  feasting  all  got  into  their  waiting 
conveyances. 

With  the  thermometer  at  fifteen  degrees  Reaumur, 
a  coachman's  life  is  not  one  altogether  to  be 
envied  in  Russia,  but  apparently  custom  will  make 
anything  endurable. 

"I  know  you  like  the  troika,  Tamara,"  Princess 
Arddcheff  said.  "So  you  go  with  Olga  and 
Gritzko  and  your  friend — only  be  sure  you  wrap 
up  your  head." 

And  when  they  were  all  getting  in,  the  Countess 
Gteboff  said: 

"It  is  so  terribly  cold  to-night,  Gritzko.  I  am 
going  to  sit  with  my  back  to  the  horses,  so  as  not 
to  get  the  wind  in  my  face." 

When  they  were  tucked  in  under  the  furs  this 
arrangement  seemed  to  Jack  Courtray  one  of  real 
worth,  for  he  instantly  proceeded  to  take  Countess 
Olga's  hand,  while  he  whispered  that  he  was  cold 
and  she  could  not  be  so  inhuman  as  to  let  a  poor 
stranger  freeze! 

It  seemed  amusing  to  look  from  the  windows  of 
a  private  room,  down  upon  a  gay  supping  throng, 
in  the  general  salle  at  the  restaurant  on  the  Islands, 
161 


HIS  HOUR 

while  Tziganes  played  and  their  supper  was  being 
prepared. 

"Who  could  think  it  was  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning !  What  a  lesson  for  our  rotten  old  County 
Council  in  London,"  Jack  Courtray  said.  "By 
Jove!  this  is  the  place  for  me!"  and  he  proceeded 
to  make  violent  love  to  Olga  Gle"boff,  to  who's  side 
he  remained  persistently  glued. 

And  then  the  gayest  repast  began;  nothing  could 
have  been  more  entertaining  or  full  of  wild  entrain, 
and  yet  no  one  over-did  it,  or  was  vulgar  or  coarse. 

At  the  last  moment,  when  they  were  all  starting 
for  home  about  seven  o'clock,  Countess  Olga 
decided  she  could  not  face  the  cold  of  the  open 
sleigh,  and  Lord  Courtray  and  she  got  into  her 
motor  instead. 

It  was  done  so  quickly,  Tamara  was  already 
packed  into  the  troika,  and  the  outside  steeds 
were  prancing  in  their  desire  to  be  off. 

"The  horses  won't  stand,"  the  Prince  said, 
«nd  he  jumped  in  beside  her  and  gave  the  order  to 
go.  Thus  Tamara  found  herself  alone  with  him 
flying  over  the  snow  under  the  stars. 

There  was  a  delicious  feeling  of  excitement  in 
162 


HIS  HOUR 

her  veins.  They  neither  of  them  spoke  for  a  while, 
but  the  Prince  drew  nearer  and  yet  nearer,  and 
presently  his  arm  slipped  round  her,  and  he  folded 
her  close. 

"  Doushka,"  he  whispered.  "  I  hate  the  English- 
man— and  life  is  so  short.  Let  us  taste  it  while 
we  may,"  and  then  he  bent  and  kissed  her  lips! 

Tamara  struggled  against  the  intense  intoxicat- 
ing emotion  she  was  experiencing.  What  frightful 
tide  was  this  which  had  swept  into  her  well-ordered 
life!  She  vainly  put  up  her  arms  and  tried  to 
push  him  away,  but  with  each  sign  of  revolt  he 
held  her  the  tighter. 

"Darling,"  he  said  softly  in  her  ear.  "My 
little  white  soul.  Do  not  fight,  it  is  perfectly 
useless,  because  I  will  do  what  I  wish.  See,  I 
will  be  gentle  and  just  caress  you,  if  you  do  not 
madden  me  by  trying  to  resist!" 

Then  he  gathered  her  right  into  his  arms,  and 
again  bent  and  most  tenderly  kissed  her.  All 
power  of  movement  seemed  to  desert  Tamara. 
She  only  knew  that  she  was  wildly  happy,  that 
this  was  heaven,  and  she  would  wish  it  never  to  end. 

She  ceased  struggling  and  closed  her  eyes,  then 
163 


HIS  HOUR 

he  whispered  all  sorts  of  cooing  love  words  in 
Russian  and  French,  and  rubbed  his  velvet  eye- 
lids against  her  cheek,  and  every  few  seconds  his 
lips  would  come  to  meet  her  lips. 

At  last,  when  they  had  crossed  the  Troitzka 
bridge,  he  permitted  her  to  release  herself,  and 
only  held  her  hands  under  the  furs,  because  dawn 
was  breaking  and  they  could  be  observed. 

But  when  they  turned  into  the  wide  Serguief- 
skaia,  which  seemed  deserted,  he  bent  once  more 
and  this  time  with  wildest  passion  he  seemed  to 
draw  her  very  soul  through  her  lips. 

Then  ere  she  could  speak,  they  drew  up  at  the 
door,  and  he  lifted  her  out,  and  before  the  Suisse 
and  the  waiting  footmen. 

"Good-night,  Madame — sleep  well,"  he  calmly 
said. 

But  Tamara,  trembling  with  mad  emotion, 
rushed  quickly  to  her  room. 


CHAPTER  XII 

riife  there  comes  sometimes  a  tidal  wave 
in  the  ebb  of  which  all  old  landmarks  are 
washed  out.  And  so  it  was  with  Tamara. 

She  had  fallen  into  bed  half  dead  with  fatigue 
and  emotion,  but  when  she  woke  the  sickly  gray 
light  of  a  Russian  winter  mid-day  pouring  into 
her  room,  and  saw  her  maid's  stolid  face,  back 
rushed  the  events  of  the  night,  and  she  drew  in 
her  breath  with  almost  a  hiss.  Yes,  nothing 
could  ever  be  the  same  again.  "Leave  me, 
Johnson,"  she  said,  "I  am  too  tired,  I  cannot 
get  up  yet." 

And  the  respectful  maid  crept  from  the  room. 

Then  she  lay  back  in  her  pillows  and  forced 
herself  to  face  the  position,  and  review  what  she 
had  done,  and  what  she  must  now  do. 

First  of  all,  she  loved  Gritzko,  that  she  could 

no    longer   argue   with   herself    about.     Secondly, 

she  was  an  English  lady,  and  could  not  let  herself 

be  kissed  by  a  man  whose  habit  it  was  to  play  with 

165 


HIS  HOUR 

whom  he  chose,  and  then  pass  on.  She  was  free, 
and  he  was  free,  it  followed  his  caressing  then — 
divine  as  it  had  been — was  an  absolute  insult. 
If  he  wanted  her  so  much  he  should  have  asked 
her  to  marry  him.  He  had  not  done  so,  therefore 
the  only  thing  which  remained  for  her  to  do,  was 
to  go  away.  The  sooner  the  better. 

Then  she  thought  of  all  the  past. 

From  the  moment  of  the  good-bye  at  the  Sphinx 
it  had  been  a  humiliation  for  her.  Always,  always, 
he  had  been  victor  of  the  situation.  Had  she 
been  ridiculously  weak?  What  was  this  fate 
which  had  fallen  upon  her?  What  had  she  done 
to  draw  such  circumstances?  Then  even  as  she 
lay  there,  communing  sternly  with  herself,  a  thrill 
swept  over  her,  as  her  thoughts  went  back  to 
that  last  passionate  kiss.  And  her  slender  hands 
clenched  under  the  clothes. 

"If  he  really  loved  me,"  she  sighed,  "I  would 
face  the  uncertain  happiness  with  him.  I  know 
now  he  causes  me  emotions  of  which  I  never 
dreamed  and  for  which  I  would  pay  that  price. 
But  I  have  no  single  proof  that  he  does  really  love 
me.  He  may  be  playing  in  the  same  way  with 
166 


HIS  HOUR 

Tatiane  She*banoff— and  the  jest."     And  at  this 
picture  her  pride  rose  in  wild  revolt. 

Never,  never!  should  he  play  with  her  again 
at  least! 

Then  she  thought  of  all  her  stupid  ways,  per- 
haps if  she  had  been  different,  not  so  hampered 
by  prejudice,  but  natural  like  all  these  women 
here,  perhaps  she  could  have  made  him  really  love 
her.— Ah!— if  so. 

This  possibility,  however,  brought  no  comfortj 
only  increased  regret. 

The  first  thing  now  to  be  done  was  to  restrain 
herself  in  an  iron  control.  To  meet  him  casually. 
To  announce  to  her  godmother  that  she  must  go 
home,  and  as  soon  as  the  visit  to  Moscow  should  be 
over,  she  would  return  to  England.  She  must  not 
be  too  sudden,  he  would  think  she  was  afraid. 
She  would  be  just  stiff  and  polite  and  serene, 
and  show  him  he  was  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  her,  and  that  she  had  no  intention  to  be  trifled 
with  again! 

At  last,  aching  in  mind  and  body,  she  lay  still. 
Meanwhile,  below  in  the  blue  salon,  the  Princess 
Ardacheff  was  conversing  with  Stephen  Strong. 
167 


HIS  HOUR 

"Yes,  mon  ami,"  she  was  saying.  "You  must 
come — we  go  in  a  week — the  day  after  my  ball, 
to  show  Tamara  Moscow,  and  from  there  to  spend 
a  night  at  Milaslav.  Olga  and  Sonia  and  her  hus- 
band and  the  Englishman,  and  Serge  Grekoff 
and  Valonne  are  coming,  and  it  will  be  quite 
amusing." 

"Think  of  the  travelling  and  my  old  bones!" 
And  Stephen  Strong  smiled.  "But  since  it  is 
your  wish,  dear  Princess,  of  course  I  must  come." 

They  were  old  and  very  intimate  friends  these 
two,  and  with  him  the  Princess  was  accustomed 
to  talk  over  most  of  her  plans. 

He  got  up  and  lit  a  cigarette,  then  he  walked 
across  the  room  and  came  back  again,  while  his 
hostess  surveyed  him  with  surprise.  At  last  he 
sat  down. 

"Vera,  tell  me  the  truth,"  he  said.  "How  are 
things  going  ?  I  confess  last  night  gave  me  qualms." 

The  Princess  gazed  at  him  inquiringly. 

"Why  qualms?" 

"  You  see,  Gritzko  is  quite  an  exceptional  person, 
he  is  no  type  of  a  Russian  or  any  other  nation  that 
one  can  reckon  with,  he  is  himself,  and  he  has  the 
168 


HIS  HOUR 

most  attractive  magnetic  personality  a  man  could 
have." 

"Well,  then?" 

"And  if  you  knew  the  simple  unsophisticated 
atmosphere  in  which  your  godchild  has  been 
brought  up ." 

"Stephen,  really," — and  the  Princess  tapped 
her  foot  impatiently.  "Please  speak  out.  Say 
what  you  mean." 

"She  is  no  more  fitted  to  cope  with  him  than  a 
baby,  that  is  what  I  mean." 

"But  why  should  she  cope  with  himp  Are  not 
men  tiresome!"  and  the  Princess  sighed.  "Can't 
you  see  I  want  them  to  love  one  another.  It  is 
just  that — if  she  would  not  snub  and  resist  him — 
all  would  be  well." 

"It  did  not  look  much  like  resistance  last  night," 
said  Stephen  Strong.  "And  if  Gritzko  is  only 
playing  the  fool,  and  means  nothing  serious,  then 
I  think  it  is  a  shame." 

"You  don't  suggest,  surely,  that  I  should  inter- 
fere with  fate  ?" 

"Only  to  the  extent  of  not  giving  him  unlimited 
opportunities.  You  remember  that  season  in 
169 


HIS  HOUR 

London — and  your  brother  Alexis — and  her  mother, 
and  what  came  of  that!" 

The  Princess  put  her  hands  up  with  a  sudden 
gesture  and  covered  her  eyes. 

"Oh!  Stephen!  how  cruel  of  you  to  bring  it  back 
to  me,"  she  said;  "but  this  is  quite  different — 
they  are  free — and  it  is  my  dearest  wish  that  Ta- 
mara  and  Gritzko  should  be  united."  Then  she 
continued  in  another  tone.  "I  think  you  are 
quite  wrong  in  any  case.  My  plan  is  to  throw 
them  together  as  much  as  possible — he  will  see  her 
real  worth  and  delicate  sweetness — and  they  will 
get  over  their  quarrelling.  It  is  her  reserve  and 
resistance  which  drives  him  mad.  Sometimes  I 
do  not  know  how  he  will  act." 

"  No,  one  can  never  count  upon  how  he  will  act ! " 
and  Stephen  Strong  smiled.  "But  since  you  are 
satisfied  I  will  say  no  more,  only  between  you 
don't  break  my  gentle  little  countrywoman's 
heart." 

"You  hurt  me  very  much,  Stephen!"  the  Princess 
said.     "You — you — of  all  people,  who  know  the 
tie  there  is  between  Tamara  and  me.     You  to  sug- 
gest even  that  I  would  aid  in  breaking  her  heart." 
170 


HIS  HOUR 

"Dear  Vera,  forgive  me,"  and  he  kissed  her 
plump  white  hand.  "I  will  suggest  nothing,  and 
will  leave  it  all  to  you,  but  do  not  forget  a  man's 
passions,  and  Gritzko,  as  we  know,  is  not  made 
of  snow!" 

"You  all  misjudge  him,  my  poor  Gritzko,"  the 
Princess  said,  hardly  mollified.  "He  has  the 
noblest  nature  underneath,  but  some  day  you 
will  know." 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Tamara 
appeared,  to  find  a  room  full  of  guests  having  tea. 
Her  mind  was  made  up,  and  she  had  regained  her 
calm. 

She  would  use  the  whole  of  her  intelligence  and 
play  the  game.  She  would  be  completely  at  ease 
and  indifferent  to  Gritzko  and  would  be  incident- 
ally as  nice  as  possible  to  Jack.  And  so  get  through 
the  short  time  before  she  must  go  home.  "For," 
she  had  reasoned  with  herself  sadly,  "If  he  had 
loved  me  really  he  would  never  have  behaved  as 
he  has  done." 

So  when  the  Prince  and  Lord  Courtray  came  in 
together  presently,  her  greeting  to  both  was  natural- 
ness itself,  and  she  took  Jack  off  to  a  distant  sofa 
12  171 


HIS  HOUR 

with  friendly  familiarity,  and  conversed  with  him 
upon  their  home  affairs. 

"By  Jove!  you  know,  Tamara,  you  are  awfully 
improved,  my  child,"  Lord  Courtray  said,  pres- 
ently. "You've  acquired  some  kind  of  a  look  in 
your  eye!  If  I  wasn't  so  taken  with  that  darling 
little  Countess  Olga  I  should  feel  inclined  to  make 
love  to  you  myself." 

"You  dear  silly  old  Jack!"  Tamara  said. 

It  was  Lord  Courtray 's  fashion,  when  talking 
to  any  woman,  even  his  own  mother,  to  lean  over 
her  with  rather  a  devoted  look.  And  Tamara 
glancing  up  caught  sight  of  Prince  Milaslavski's 
face.  It  wore  an  expression  which  almost  filled  her 
with  fear.  Of  all  things  she  must  provoke  no 
quarrel  between  him  and  dear  old  Jack,  who  was 
quite  blameless  in  the  affair. 

At  the  same  time  there  was  a  consolation  in  the 
knowledge  that  she  could  make  him  feel. 

She  thought  it  wiser  soon  to  rise  and  return  to 
the  general  group,  while  Jack,  on  his  own  amuse- 
ment bent,  now  took  his  leave. 

She  sat  down  by  Stephen  Strong,  she  was  in  a 
most  gracious  mood  it  seemed. 
172 


HIS  HOUR 

"You  have  heard  of  our  excursion  to  Moscow, 
Mr.  Strong,"  she  said.  "The  Princess  says  you 
must  come  too,  I  am  looking  forward  to  it 
immensely." 

"We  ought  to  have  a  most  promising  time  in 
front  of  us,"  that  old  cynic  replied,  while  he  puffed 
rings  of  smoke.  "  It  all  should  be  as  full  of  adven- 
ture as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat!" 

"I  have  been  reading  up  the  guide  books,  so  as 
to  be  thoroughly  learned  and  teach  Jack — he  is 
so  terribly  ignorant  always,  worse  than  Tom!"  and 
she  laughed. 

"We  must  try  and  see  the  whole  show,  and  if  the 
snow  lasts,  as  it  promises  to  do,  we  should  have  a 
delightful  time." 

"Gritzko,"  Princess  Ardacheff  said.  "How 
many  versts  is  it  from  Moscow  to  Milaslav?" 

The  Prince  had  been  leaning  on  the  mantlepiece 
without  speaking  for  some  moments,  listening  to 
Tamara's  conversation,  but  now  he  joined  in,  and 
sinking  into  a  chair  beside  her,  answered  from  there. 

"Thirty  versts,  Tantine — we  shall  go  in  troikas 
— but  you  must  send  your  servants  on  the  night 
before." 

173 


HIS  HOUR 

Then  he  turned  to  Tamara,  who  seemed  wonder- 
fully absorbed,  almost  whispering  to  Stephen 
Strong.  "  Did  you  sleep  well,  Madame  ?"  he  said. 
There  was  an  expression  of  mocking  defiance  in  his 
glance,  which  angered  Tamara.  However,  faithful 
to  her  resolutions,  she  kept  herself  calm. 

"Never  better,  thank  you,  Prince.  It  was  a  most 
interesting  evening,  and  I  am  learning  the  customs 
of  the  country,"  she  said.  "The  thing  which 
strikes  me  most  is  your  wonderful  chivalry  to 
women — especially  strange  women." 

They  looked  into  one  another's  eyes  and  meas- 
ured swords,  and  if  she  had  known  it  she  had 
never  so  deeply  attracted  him  before. 

She  had  broached  the  subject  of  her  return  to 
England  to  her  godmother,  who  had  laughed  the 
idea  to  scorn,  but  now  she  spoke  to  Gritzko  as  if  it 
were  an  established  fact. 

"  I  go  home  from  Moscow,  you  know,"  she  said. 

"You  find  our  country  too  cold?"  he  asked. 

"It  is  too  full  of  contrasts,  freezing  one  moment 
and  thawing  the  next,  and  while  outside  one  is 
turned  to  ice,  indoors  one  is  consumed  with  heat; 
it  is  upsetting  to  the  equilibrium." 
174 


HIS  HOUR 

"All  the  same,  you  will  not  go,"  and  he  leaned 
back  in  the  chair  with  his  provoking  lazy  smile. 

"Indeed,  I  shall." 

"We  shall  see.  There  are  a  number  of  things 
for  you  to  learn  yet." 

"What  things?" 

The  Prince  lit  a  cigarette.  "The  possibilities  of 
the  unknown  fires  you  have  lit,"  he  said.  "You 
remember  the  night  at  the  Sphinx,  when  we  said 
good-bye.  I  told  you  a  proverb  they  have  there 
about  meeting  before  dawn,  and  not  parting  until 
dawn.  Well,  that  dawn  has  not  arrived  yet.  And 
I  have  no  intention — for  the  moment — that  it  shall 
arrive." 

Tamara  felt  excited,  and  as  ever  his  tone  of 
complete  omnipotence  annoyed  her.  At  the  same 
time  to  see  him  sitting  there,  his  eyes  fixed  with 
deep  interest  on  her  face,  thrilled  and  exalted  her. 
Oh!  she  certainly  loved  him!  Alas!  and  it  would 
be  dreadfully  difficult  to  say  good-bye.  But  those 
three  words  in  his  sentence  stung  her  pride — "for 
the  moment."  Yes,  there  was  always  this  hint  of 
caprice.  Always  he  gave  her  the  sensation  of 
instability,  there  was  no  way  to  hold  him.  She 
175 


HIS  HOUR 

must  ever  guard  her  emotions  and  ever  be  ready 
to  fence. 

And  now  that  she  had  taken  a  resolve  to  go  home, 
to  linger  no  more,  she  was  free  to  tease  him  as 
much  as  she  could.  To  feel  that  she  could,  gave 
her  a  fillip,  and  added  a  fresh  charm  to  her  face. 

"You  think  you  can  rule  the  whole  world  to 
your  will,  Prince,"  she  said. 

"I  can  rule  the  part  of  it  I  want,  as  you  will  find," 
he  retorted  fiercely.  She  made  a  pouting  moue  and 
tapped  her  little  foot,  then  she  laughed. 

"How  amusing  it  would  be  if  you  happened  to 
be  mistaken  this  time,"  she  cooed.  Then  she 
rapidly  turned  to  the  Princess  Sonia,  who  had  just 
come  in,  and  they  all  talked  of  the  great  ball  which 
was  to  take  place  in  the  house  in  a  week.  The 
first  after  the  period  of  the  deep  mourning. 

"We  cannot  yet  wear  colors,  but  whites  and 
grays  and  mauves — and  won't  it  be  a  relief  from 
all  this  black,"  Princess  Sonia  said. 

When  they  had  all  gone  and  Tamara  was  dressing 

for  dinner,  she  felt  decidedly  less  depressed.     She 

had  succeeded  better  than  she  had  hoped.     She 

had  contrived  to  outwit  the  Prince,  when  he  had 

176 


HIS  HOUR 

plainly  shown  his  intention  was  to  continue  talk- 
ing to  her,  she  had  turned  from  one  to  another, 
and  finally  sat  down  by  a  handsome  Chevalier 
Garde.  In  companies  she  had  a  chance,  but 
when  they  were  alone! — however,  that  was  simple, 
because  she  must  arrange  that  they  should  never 
be  alone. 


4*    CHAPTER  XHI 

rwas  perhaps  a  fortunate  thing  that  for 
three  days  after  this  the  Prince  was  kept  at 
his  military  duties  at  Tsarsk6i-Se"lo,  and 
could  not  come  to  Petersburg,  for  he  was  in  a  mood 
that  could  easily  mean  mischief.  Tamara  also 
was  inclined  to  take  things  in  no  docile  spirit. 

She  felt  very  unhappy,  underneath  her  gay 
exterior.  It  was  not  agreeable  to  her  self-respect 
to  realize  she  was  fleeing  from  a  place  because 
she  loved  a  man  whose  actions  showed  he  did 
not  entertain  the  same  degree  of  feeling  for 
her.  No  amount  of  attention  from  any  other  quite 
salved  that  ever-constant  inward  hurt. 

She  went  often  through  strange  moments.  In 
the  middle  of  a  casual  conversation  suddenly  back 
would  come  a  wave  of  remembrance  of  the  dawn 
drive  in  the  troika,  and  she  would  actually  quiver 
with  physical  emotion  as  the  vivid  recollection  of 
the  bliss  of  it  would  sweep  over  her. 

Then  she  would  clench  her  hands  and  determine 
178 


HIS  HOUR 

more  fiercely  than  ever  to  banish  such  memories. 
But  with  all  her  will,  hardly  for  ten  minutes  at  a 
time  could  she  keep  Gritzko  from  her  thoughts. 
His  influence  over  her  was  growing  into  an 
obsession. 

She  wondered  why  he  did  not  come.  She  would 
not  ask  her  godmother.  The  three  days  passed  in 
a  feverish,  gnawing  unrest;  and  on  the  third  evening 
they  went  to  the  ballet  again. 

Opposite  them,  in  a  box,  a  very  dark  young 
woman  was  seated.  She  had  a  hard,  determined 
face,  and  she  was  well  dressed,  and  not  too  covered 
with  jewels. 

"That  is  a  celebrated  lady,"  Count  Valonne 
said.  "You  must  look  at  her,  Madame  Loraine; 
she  was  one  of  the  best  dancers  at  the  ballet,  and 
last  year  she  tried  to  commit  suicide  in  a  charm- 
ingly dramatic  way  at  one  of  Gritzko's  parties. 
She  was  at  the  time  perhaps  his  chbre  amie — one 
never  knows,  but  in  all  cases  violently  in  love  with 
him — and  is  still,  for  the  matter  of  that — or  so  it  is 
said — and  in  the  middle  of  rather  a  wild  feast  he 
was  giving  for  her,  she  suddenly  drank  off  some 
poison,  after  making  the  terrifying  announcement 
179 


HIS  HOUR 

of  her  intention !  We  were  all  petrified  with  horror, 
but  he  remained  quite  calm,  and,  seizing  her,  he 
poured  a  whole  bottle  of  salad  oil  down  her  throat, 
and  then  sent  for  a  doctor! — Of  course  the  poor 
lady  recovered,  and  the  romantic  end  was  quite 
rate! — She  was  perfectly  furious,  one  heard — and 
married  a  rich  slate  merchant  the  week  after. 
Wasn't  it  like  Gritzko?  He  said  the  affair  was 
vulgar,  and  he  sent  her  a  large  diamond  bracelet, 
and  never  spoke  to  her  again !" 

Tamara  felt  her  cheeks  burn — and  her  pride 
galled  her  more  than  ever.  So  she  and  the  ex- 
dancer  were  in  the  same  boat  ? — but  she  at  least 
would  not  try  to  commit  suicide  and  be  restored 
by — salad  oil! 

"How  perfectly  ridiculous!"  she  said,  with 
rather  a  bitter  little  laugh.  "What  complete 
bathos!" 

"It  was  unfortunate,  was  it  not?"  Valonne 
went  on,  and  he  glanced  at  Tamara  sideways. 

He  guessed  that  she  was  interested  in  the  Prince; 

but  Valonne  was   a   charming   creature   with   an 

understanding  eye,  and  in  their  set  was  in  great 

request.    He  knew  exactly  the  right  thing  to  talk 

180 


HIS  HOUR 

about  to  each  different  person,  as  a  perfect  diplomat 
should,  and  he  was  too  tactful  and  sympathetic  to 
tease  poor  Tamara.  On  the  contrary,  he  told  her 
casually  that  Gritzko  had  been  on  some  duty  these 
three  days,  in  case  she  did  not  know  it. 

From  the  beginning  Tamara  always  had  liked 
Valonne. 

Then  into  the  box  came  the  same  good-looking 
Chevalier  Garde,  Count  Varishkine,  whom  she 
had  talked  to  on  the  last  occasion  of  Gritzko 's 
visit,  and  the  spirit  of  hurt  pride  caused  her  to  be 
most  gracious  with  him.  Meanwhile  the  Princess 
Ard&cheff  watched  her  with  a  faint  sensation  of 
uneasiness,  and  at  last  whispered  to  Stephen 
Strong: 

"Does  not  my  godchild  seem  to  be  developing 
new  characteristics,  Stephen?  She  is  so  very 
stately  and  quiet;  and  yet  to-night  it  would  almost 
seem  she  is  being  flirtatious  with  Boris  Varishkine. 
— I  trust  we  shall  have  no  complications.  What 
do  you  think  ?" 

Mr.  Strong  laughed. 

"It  will  depend  upon  how  much  it  angers 
Gritzko.  It  could  come  to  mean  anything — 
181 


HIS  HOUR 

bloodshed,  a  scandal,  or  merely  bringing  things  to  a 
crisis  between  them. — Let  us  hope,  for  the  latter." 

"Indeed,   yes  " 

"You  must  remember,  for  an  Englishwoman  it 
would  be  very  difficult  to  grasp  all  the  possibilities 
in  the  character  of  Gritzko.  We  are  not  accustomed 
to  these  tempestuous  headlong  natures  in  our 
calm  country." 

"Fortunately  Boris  and  Gritzko  are  very  great 
friends." 

"I  never  heard  that  the  warmest  friendship 
prevented  jealousy  between  men,"  Stephen  Strong 
said,  a  little  cynically — he  had  suffered  a  good 
deal  in  his  youth. 

"I  am  delighted  we  are  going  to  Moscow.  There 
will  be  no  Boris,  and  I  shall  arrange  for  my  two 
children  to  be  together  as  much  as  possible.  I  feel 
that  is  the  surest  way,"  the  Princess  answered;  and 
they  talked  of  other  things 

After  the  ballet  was  over  the  party  went  on  to 
supper  at  Cubat's  in  a  private  room,  contrary  to 
the  Princess'  custom.  But  it  was  Stephen  Strong's 
entertainment,  and  he  had  no  house  to  invite 
them  to. 

182 


HIS  HOUR 

As  they  passed  down  the  passage  to  their  salon 
the  door  of  another  opened  as  a  waiter  came 
out,  and  loud  laughter  and  clatter  of  glass  burst 
forth,  and  above  the  din  one  shrill  girl's  treble 
screamed : 

"Gritzko!    Oh,  Gritzko!" 

The  food  nearly  choked  Tamara  when  they 
reached  their  room,  and  supper  began.  It  was  not, 
of  course,  a  heinous  crime  for  the  Prince  to  be 
entertaining  ladies  of  another  world.  But  on  the 
top  of  everything  else  it  raised  a  wild  revolt  in  her 
heart,  and  a  raging  disgust  with  herself.  Never, 
never  should  she  unbend  to  him  again.  She  would 
not  love  him. 

Alas!  for  the  impotency  of  human  wills!  Only 
the  demonstrations  of  love  can  be  controlled,  the 
emotion  itself  comes  from  heaven — or  hell,  and  is 
omnipotent.  Poor  Tamara  might  as  well  have 
determined  to  keep  the  sun  from  rising  as  to  keep 
herself  from  loving  Gritzko. 

She  was  quite  aware  that  men — even  the  nicest 

men — like  Jack  and  her  brother  Tom,  sometimes 

went  out  with  people  she  would  not  care  to  know; 

but   to    have   the   fact    brought    under   her  very 

183 


HIS  HOUR 

observation  disgusted  her  fine  senses.  To  realize 
that  the  man  she  loved  was  at  the  moment  perhaps 
kissing  some  ordinary  woman,  revolted  and  galled 
her  immeasurably.  But  if  she  had  known  it  this 
night,  at  least,  the  Prince  was  innocent.  He  had 
strolled  into  that  room  with  some  brother  officers, 
and  was  not  the  giver  of  the  feast.  And  a  few 
minutes  after  Mr.  Strong's  party  had  begun  their 
repast  he  opened  the  door. 

"  May  I  come  in,  Stephen  ?"  he  asked.  "  I  heard 
you  were  all  here,  Serge  saw  you.  I  have  just 
arrived  from  Tsarskoi,  and  must  eat." 

And  of  course  he  was  warmly  welcomed  and 
pressed  to  take  a  seat,  while  Valonne  chaffed  him 
in  an  undertone  about  the  joys  he  had  precipitately 
left. 

Tamara's  face  was  the  picture  of  disdain.  But 
the  Prince  sat  beside  her  godmother,  apparently 
unconcerned.  He  did  not  trouble  to  address  her 
specially,  and  before  the  end  of  supper,  in  spite  of 
rage  and  disgust  and  anger — and  shame,  she  was 
longing  for  him  to  talk  to  her. 

The  only  consolation  she  had  was  once  when 
they  went  out,  as  she  looked  up  sweetly  at  Count 
184 


HIS  HOUR 

Varishkine  she  caught  a  fierce  expression  stealing 
over  Gritzko's  face. 

So  even  though  he  did  not  love  her  really  he 
could  still  feel  jealous;  that  was  something,  at  all 
events ! 

Thus  in  these  paltry  rages  and  irritations,  these 
two  human  beings  passed  the  next  three  days — • 
when  their  real  souls  were  capable  of  something 
great. 

Prince  Milasldvski,  to  every  one's  surprise, 
appeared  continuously  in  the  world. 

Tamara  and  the  Princess  met  him  everywhere, 
and  while  the  Princess  did  her  best  to  throw  them 
together,  Tamara  maneuvered  so  that  not  once 
could  he  speak  to  her  alone,  while  she  was  assid- 
uously charming  to  every  one  else.  Now  it  was 
old  Prince  Miklefski  or  Stephen  Strong,  now  one 
of  the  husbands,  or  Jack,  and  just  often  enough 
to  give  things  a  zest  she  was  bewitching  to  the 
handsome  Chevalier  Garde. 

And  the  strange,  fierce  light  in  Gritzko's  eyes 
did  not  decrease. 

The  night  before  the  Ard&cheff  ball  they  were 
going  to  a  reception  at  one  of  the  Embassies  for  a 
185 


HIS  HOUR 

foreign  King  and  Queen,  who  were  paying  a  visit 
to  the  Court,  and  Tamara  dressed  with  unusual 
care,  and  fastened  her  high  tiara  in  her  soft  brown 
hair. 

The  Prince  should  see  her  especially  attractive, 
she  thought. 

But  when  they  arrived  at  the  great  house  and 
walked  among  the  brilliant  throng  no  Prince  was 
to  be  seen! — It  might  be  he  had  no  intention  to 
come. 

Presently  Tamara  went  off  to  the  refreshment 
room  with  her  friend  Valonne. 

The  conversation  turned  to  Gritzko  with  an  easy 
swing. 

He  seemed  on  the  brink  of  one  of  his  maddest 
fits.  Valonne  had  seen  him  in  the  club  just  before 
dinner. 

"If  you  really  go  to  England  I  think  he  will 
follow  you,  Madame,"  he  said. 

"  How  ridiculous !"  and  Tamara  laughed.  "  How 
can  it  make  a  difference  to  him  whether  I  go  or  no  ? 
We  do  not  exist  for  one  another,"  and  she  fanned 
herself  rather  rapidly,  while  Valonne  smiled  a 
fine  smile. 

186 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  should  not  be  quite  sure  of  that,"  he  said. 
"If  I  might  predict,  I  should  say  you  will  be  lucky 
if  you  get  away  from  here  without  being  the  cause 
of  a  duel  of  some  sort." 

"A  duel!"  Tamara  was  startled.  "How  dread- 
ful, and  how  silly!  But  why?  I  thought  dueling 
had  quite  gone  out  in  all  civilized  countries;  and 
in  any  case,  why  fight  about  me  ?  And  who  should 
fight?  Surely  you  are  only  teasing  me,  Count 
Valonne." 

"  Duels  are  real  facts  here,  I  am  afraid,"  he  said. 
"  Gritzko  has  already  engaged  in  two  of  them.  He 
is  not  quarrelsome,  but  just  never  permits  any 
one  to  cross  his  wishes  or  interfere  with  his 
game." 

"But  what  is  his  game?  You  speak  as  though 
it  were  some  kind  of  cards  or  plot.  What  do  you 
mean?"  and  Tamara,  with  heightened  color, 
lifted  her  head. 

"The  game  of  Gritzko  P"  and  Count  Valonne 
laughed.  "Frankly,  I  think  he  is  very  much  in  love 
with  you,  Madame,"  he  said.  "So  by  that  you 
can  guess  what  would  be  any  man's  game." 

"You  have  a  vivid  imagination,  and  are  talking 
13  187 


HIS  HOUR 

perfect  nonsense."  Tamara  laughed  nervously. 
"I  refuse  to  be  the  least  upset  by  such  ideas!" 

At  the  moment  up  came  Count  Boris  Varishkine, 
and  after  a  while  she  went  off  with  him  to  a  sofa 
by  the  window,  and  there  was  seated  in  deep  con- 
verse when  the  Prince  came  in. 

He  looked  at  them  for  a  second  and  then  made 
straight  for  the  Princess  Ardacheff,  who  was  just 
about  to  arrange  her  rubber  of  bridge. 

"Tantine,  I  want  to  talk  to  you,"  he  said. 

And  the  Princess  at  once  left  the  cardroom  and 
returned  with  him.  They  found  a  quiet  corner 
opposite  Tamara  and  her  Garde,  and  there  sat 
down 

"Tantine,  I  brought  you  here  to  look  over  there. 
—What  does  that  mean?" 

The  Princess  put  up  her  glasses  to  gain  time. 

"Nothing,  dear  boy.  Tamara  is  merely  amusing 
herself  like  all  the  rest  of  us  at  a  party.  Are  you 
jealous,  Gritzko?"  she  asked. 

He  looked  at  her  sharply,  and  for  a  moment 
unconsciously  fingered  the  dagger  in  his  belt. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  am  jealous.  I  am  not  at  all  sure 
that  I  do  not  love  your  charming  friend,"  he  said. 
188 


HIS  HOUR 

"Well,  why  don't  you  marry  her  then?'*  sug- 
gested the  Princess. 

"Perhaps  I  shall — if  she  does  not  drive  me  to 
doing  something  mad  first.  I  don't  know  what  I 
intend.  It  may  be  to  go  off  to  the  Caucasus,  or  to 
stay  and  make  her  love  me  so  deeply  that  she  will 
forgive  me — no  matter  what  I  do." 

He  paused  a  moment,  and  his  great  eyes  filled 
with  mist,  and  then  the  wild  light  grew. 

"If  ever  she  becomes  my  Princess,  she  shall 
be  entirely  for  me.  I  will  not  let  her  have  a  look 
or  thought  for  any  other  man.  All  must  be  mine — 
unshared,  and  then  she  shall  be  my  queen." 

Princess  Arddcheff  leant  back  and  looked  at 
him.  He  was  in  his  blue  uniform  with  the  scarlet 
underdress;  and  even  she — old  woman  and  fond 
friend — could  not  help  picturing  the  gorgeous 
joy  such  a  fate  would  give — to  have  him  for  a  lover! 
to  see  his  fierce,  proud  head  bent  in  devotion, 
to  feel  his  tender  caress.  Tamara  must  be  an 
unutterable  fool  if  she  should  hesitate. 

But  what  he  had  said  was  not  reassuring  in 
its  prospect  of  calm.     She  felt  she  must  put  in 
some  small  word  of  admonition. 
189 


HIS  HOUR 

"You  will  be  careful  won't  you,  Gritzko?" 
she  ventured  to  suggest.  "Remember,  Tamara 
is  an  Englishwoman,  and  not  accustomed  to  your 
ways." 

"It  will  depend  upon  herself,"  he  said.  "If 
she  goes  on  teasing  nje  I  do  not  know  what  I  shall 
do.  If  she  does  not " 

"You  will  be  good?" 

"Possibly.  But  one  thing,  Tantine,  I  will  not 
be  interfered  with  either  by  her  friend  the  English- 
man or  Boris  Varishkine." 

At  this  moment  Tamara  looked  up  and  caught 
the  two  pairs  of  eyes  fixed  upon  her.  And  into 
her  spirit  flowed  a  devilment. — Duels!  They 
were  all  nonsense.  She  should  certainly  play  a 
little  with  her  new  friend. 

In  her  whole  life  before  she  came  to  Russia  she 
had  never  been  really  flirtatious.  She  was  in  no 
way  a  coquette,  rather  a  simple  creature  who 
recked  little  of  men.  But  the  simplest  woman 
develops  feline  qualities  under  certain  provoca- 
tion; and  her  pride  was  deeply  hurt. 

Count  Boris  Varishkine  asked  nothing  better 
than  to  fall  in  with  her  views.  He  was,  however, 
190 


HIS  HOUR 

like  most  of  his  countrymen,  sincere,  and  not  merely 
passing  the  time. 

Jack  Courtray  came  up,  too,  and  joined  them, 
his  Countess  Olga  had  sent  him  temporarily  from 
her  side.  And  Tamara  scintillated  and  sparkled 
as  she  talked  to  them  both  in  a  way  which  sur- 
prised herself. 

This  society  was  very  diplomatic,  and  it  amused 
her  to  watch  the  representatives  of  the  different 
nations — the  English  and  the  Russians  standing 
out  as  so  much  the  finest  men. 

Presently  the  little  group  was  joined  by  Stephen 
Strong. 

"Isn't  this  an  amusing  party,  Mrs.  Loraine?" 
he  said. 

"Yes,"  said  Tamara.  "And  I  am  beginning 
to  be  able  to  place  the  members  of  the  different 
countries.  Don't  you  think  the  Russians  look 
much  the  most  like  us,  Mr.  Strong?" 

"The  Russians,  dear  lady?  When  you  have 
traveled  a  little  more  you  will  see  that  term  covers 
half  the  types  of  the  earth — but  I  agree.  What 
we  see  here  in  Petersburg  are  very  much  like  us — 
a  trifling  difference  in  the  way  the  eyes  are  set, 
191 


HIS  HOUR 

and  the  way  the  hair  is  brushed;  and,  given  the 
same  uniforms,  half  these  smart  young  men  might 
be  our  English  Guards." 

"We  do  hot  resemble  you  in  character,  though," 
said  Count  Varishkine.  "You  can  feel  just  what 
you  like,  or  not  at  all,  whereas  we  are  storm-tossed, 
and  have  not  yet  learnt  the  arts  of  pretence." 

"We're  a  deuced  cold-blooded  race,  aren't 
we,  Tamara  ?  "  Jack  Courtray  said,  and  he  grinned 
his  happy  grin. 

The  little  party  looked  so  merry  and  content 
Princess  Ardacheff  hardly  liked  to  disturb  them, 
but  was  impelled  to  by  a  look  in  Gritzko's  face. 

"Tamara,  dear,"  she  said,  as  she  joined  them, 
"I  am  so  very  tired  after  last  night,  for  once  shall 
we  go  home  reasonably  early  ?  " 

And  Tamara  rose  gladly  to  her  feet. 

"Of  course,  Marraine,  I  too  am  dropping  with 
fatigue,"  she  said. 

The  Prince  spoke  a  few  words  to  Stephen  Strong, 
and  Jack  joined  in;  so  that  the  three  were  a  pace 
or  so  to  one  side  when  the  two  ladies  wished  them 
good-night. 

"Come  and  see  me  early  to-morrow,  Jack," 
192 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara  said.  "I  want  to  show  you  Tom's  letter 
from  home,"  and  she  looked  up  with  an  alluring 
smile,  feeling  the  Prince  was  watching  her;  then, 
turning  to  Count  Boris,  "I  am  sure  you  will  re- 
gret your  bargain  in  having  asked  me  to  dance  the 
Mazurka  to-morrow  night,"  she  said.  "  I  do  not 
know  a  single  figure  or  a  step — but  I  hope  we  shall 
have  some  fun.  I  am  looking  forward  to  it." 

"More  than  fun!"  the  young  man  said,  with 
devotion,  as  he  kissed  her  hand. 

Then  they  walked  to  say  good-night  to  the  hostess, 
and  Gritzko  seemed  to  disappear.  But  when  they 
got  down  into  the  hall  they  saw  him  already  in 
his  furs. 

The  Princess'  footman  began  to  hand  Tamara 
her  snow-boots  and  cloak,  but  Gritzko  almost 
snatched  them  from  the  man's  hand.  She  made 
no  protest,  but  let  him  help  her  to  put  them  on  and 
wrap  her  up,  while  her  godmother  thought  it 
advisable  to  walk  toward  the  door. 

"To-night  was  your  moment,  Madame,"  he 
said,  in  a  low  voice.  "But  the  gods  are  often 
kind  to  me,  and  my  hour  will  come!" 

Tamara  summoned  everything  she  knew  of 
193 


HIS  HOUR 

provokingness  into  her  face  as  she  looked  up  and 
answered : 

"Tant  pis!  et  bon  soir!  Monsieur  le  de"mon 
de  Lermontoff!" 

Then  she  felt  it  prudent  to  run  quickly  after  the 
Princess  and  get  into  the  automobile! 


CHAPTER  XIV 

rwas  twenty-four  hours  later.  The  night 
of  the  Ard&cheff  ball  had  come.  The 
glorious  house  made  the  background  of  a 
festive  scene.  The  company  waited  all  round  the 
galleries  for  the  arrival  of  the  Grand  Dukes  and 
the  foreign  King  and  Queen. 

And  Tamara  stood  by  her  godmother's  side  at 
the  top  of  the  stairs,  a  strange  excitement  flooding 
her  veins. 

Since  the  night  before  they  had  heard  nothing 
of  the  Prince.  And  as  each  guest  came  in  view, 
past  the  splendid  footmen  grouped  like  statues  on 
every  six  steps,  both  women  watched  with  quicken- 
ing pulses  for  one  insouciant  Cossack  face. 

The  Royalties  arrived  in  a  gorgeous  train,  and 
yet  neither  Gritzko  nor  Count  Varishkine. 

It  might  mean  nothing,  but  it  was  curious  all 

the  same.     The  opening  contre-danse  was  in  full 

swing,  and  still  they  never  came,  and  by  the  time 

of  the  second  valse  after  it  Tamara  was  a  prey  to 

195 


HIS  HOUR 

a  vague  fear.  While  the  Princess*  uneasiness 
grew  more  than  vague. 

Tamara  could  not  enjoy  herself.  She  talked 
at  random,  she  made  her  partners  continually 
promenade  through  the  salons,  and  her  eyes  con- 
stantly scanned  the  doors. 

The  immense  ballroom,  quite  two  stories  high, 
presented  a  brilliant  sight  with  its  stately  decora- 
tions of  the  time  of  Alexander  I.  And  all  the 
magnificent  jewels  and  uniforms,  and  the  flowers. 
Somehow  a  riot  of  roses  takes  an  extra  charm 
when  outside  the  thermometer  measures  zero. 
And  no  one  would  have  believed,  looking  at  this 
dignified  throng,  that  they  could  be  the  same 
people  who  could  frolic  wildly  at  a  Bohemian 
supper. 

There  is  a  great  deal  in  breeding,  after  all,  and 
the  knowledge  of  the  fitness  of  things  which  fol- 
lows in  its  train. 

Tamara  was  valsing  with  Jack  Courtray,  and 
they  stopped  to  look  at  the  world. 

"Are  they  not  a  wonderful  people,  Jack? 
Could  anything  be  more  decorous  and  dignified 
than  they  are  to-night  ?  And  yet  if  you  watch,  in 
196 


HIS  HOUR 

the  contre-danse  their  eyes  have  the  same  excited 
look  as  when  we  wildly  capered  after  supper  in 
Prince  Milasldvski's  house.'* 

"Which  reminds  me — why  is  he  not  here?" 
asked  Jack. 

"I  wish  I  knew,"  Tamara  said.  "Jack,  be  a 
dear  and  go  and  forage  about  and  get  hold  of 
Serge  Grekoff,  if  you  can  see  him,  or  Mr. 
Strong,  or  Sasha  Basmanoff,  or  some  one  who 
might  know — but  it  seems  as  if  none  of  them  are 
here." 

"As  interested  as  that?"  and  Lord  Courtray 
laughed.  "Well,  my  child,  I'll  do  my  best,"  so 
he  relinquished  her  for  the  next  turn  and  left  her 
with  Valonne,  who  had  just  arrived. 

"Apparently  I  shall  have  to  go  partnerless  for 
the  Mazurka,"  Tamara  carelessly  said  while  she 
watched  the  Frenchman's  face  with  the  corner  of 
her  eye.  "I  was  engaged  for  it  to  Count  Varish- 
kine,  and  he  has  never  turned  up.  I  do  wonder 
what  has  happened  to  him.  Do  you  know  ?" 

"I  told  you  you  would  be  lucky  if  you  got  away 
from  here  without  some  row  of  sorts,  Madame," 
and  Valonne  smiled  enigmatically. 
197 


HIS  HOUR 

"What  do  you  mean?  Please  tell  me?"  and 
Tamara  turned  pale. 

"I  mean  nothing;  only  I  fancy  you  will  only  see 
one  of  them  to-night;  which  it  will  be  is  still  on 
the  cards." 

A  cold,  sick  feeling  came  over  Tamara. 

"You  are  not  insinuating  that  they  have  been 
fighting?"  she  asked,  with  a  tremble  in  her  voice 
which  she  could  not  control. 

But  Valonne  reassured  her. 

"I  am  insinuating  nothing,"  he  said,  with  a 
calm  smile.  "Let  us  have  one  more  turn  before 
this  charming  valse  stops." 

And,  limp  and  nerveless,  Tamara  allowed  her- 
self to  be  whirled  around  the  room;  nor  could 
she  get  anything  further  out  of  Valonne. 

When  it  was  over  she  sought  in  vain  for  her  god- 
mother or  Jack  or  Stephen  Strong.  The  Princess 
was  engaged  with  the  Royalties  and  could  not  be 
approached,  and  neither  of  the  men  were  to  be  seen. 

The  next  half-hour  was  agony,  in  which,  with 
a  white  face  and  fixed  smile,  Tamara  played  her 
part,  and  then  just  before  the  Mazurka  was  going 
to  begin  Gritzko  came  in. 
198 


HIS  HOUR 

It  seemed  as  if  her  knees  gave  way  under  her 
for  a  moment,  and  she  sat  down  in  a  seat.  The 
relief  was  so  great.  Whatever  had  happened  he 
at  least  was  safe. 

She  watched  him  securing  two  chairs  in  the  best 
place,  and  then  he  crossed  over  to  where  she  sat 
by  the  door  to  the  refreshment  room. 

"Bon  soir,  Madame,"  he  said.  "Will  you  take 
me  as  a  substitute  for  your  partner,  Count  Varish- 
kine?"  and  he  bowed  with  a  courtly  grace  which 
seemed  suited  to  the  scene.  "He  is,  I  regret  to 
say,  slightly  indisposed,  and  has  asked  me  to  crave 
your  indulgence  for  him,  and  let  me  fill  his  place." 

For  a  moment  Tamara  hesitated;  she  seemed 
to  have  lost  the  power  of  speech;  she  felt  she  must 
control  her  anxiety  and  curiosity,  so  at  last  she 
answered  gravely: 

"I  am  so  very  sorry!  I  hope  it  is  nothing  seri- 
ous. He  is  so  charming,  Count  Varishkine." 

** Nothing  serious.  Shall  we  take  our  places? 
I  have  two  chairs  there  not  far  from  Olga  and  your 
friend,"  and  the  Prince  prepared  to  lead  the  way. 

Tamara,  now  that  the  tension  was  over,  almost 
thought  she  would  refuse,  but  the  great  relief  and 
199 


HIS  HOUR 

joy  she  felt  in  his  presence  overcame  her  pride, 
and  she  meekly  followed  him  across  the  room. 

They  passed  the  Princess  on  the  way,  and  as 
she  apparently  gave  some  laughing  reply  to  the 
Ambassador  she  was  with,  she  hurriedly  whispered 
in  Tamara's  ear: 

"Pour  1'amour  de  Dieu !  Be  careful  with  Gritzko 
to-night,  my  child." 

When  they  were  seated  waiting  for  the  dance 
to  begin  Tamara  noticed  that  the  Prince  was  very 
pale,  and  that  his  eyes,  circled  with  blue  shadows, 
seemed  to  flame. 

The  certainty  grew  upon  her  that  some  mysteri- 
ous tragic  thing  had  taken  place;  but,  frightened 
by  the  Princess'  words,  she  did  not  question  him. 

She  hardly  spoke,  and  he  was  silent,  too.  It 
seemed  as  though  now  he  had  gained  his  end  and 
secured  her  as  a  partner  it  was  all  he  meant  to  do. 

Presently  he  turned  to  her  and  asked  lazily: 

"Have  you  been  amused  since  the  Moravian 
reception?  How  have  you  passed  the  time?  I 
have  been  at  Tsarskoi  again,  and  could  not  come 
to  see  Tantine." 

"We  have  been  quite  happy,  thanks,  Prince," 
200 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara  said.  "Jack  Courtray  and  I  have  spent 
the  day  studying  the  lovely  things  in  the  Hermitage. 
We  must  see  what  we  can  before  we  both  go  home." 

Gritzko  looked  at  her. 

"I  like  him — he  is  a  good  fellow — your  friend," 
and  then  he  added  reflectively:  "But  if  he  spends 
too  much  time  with  you  I  hope  the  bears  will  eat 
him!" 

This  charitable  wish  was  delivered  in  a  grave, 
quiet  voice,  as  though  it  had  been  a  blessing. 

"How  horrible  you  are!"  Tamara  flashed. 
"Jack  to  be  eaten  by  bears!  Poor  dear  old  Jack! 
What  has  he  done  ?" 

"Nothing,  I  hope, — as  yet;  but  time  will  tell. 
Now  we  must  begin  to  dance." 

And  they  rose,  called  to  the  center  by  the  Master 
of  the  Ceremonies  to  assist  in  a  figure. 

While  the  Prince  was  doing  his  part  she  noticed 
his  movements  seemed  languid  and  not  full  of  his 
usual  wild  entrain,  and  her  feeling  of  unease  and 
dread  of  she  knew  not  what  increased. 

Tamara  was  very  popular,  and  was  hardly  left 
for  a  moment  on  her  chair  when  the  flower  figures 
began,  so  their  conversations  were  disjointed,  and 
201 


HIS  HOUR 

at  last  almost  ceased,  and  unconsciously  a  stiff 
silence  grew  up  between  them,  caused,  if  she  had 
known  it,  on  his  side,  by  severe  physical  pain. 

She  was  surprised  that  he  handed  all  his  flowers 
to  her  but  did  not  ask  her  to  dance,  nor  did  he  rise 
to  seek  any  other  woman.  He  just  sat  still,  though 
presently,  when  magnificent  red  roses  were  brought 
in  in  a  huge  trophy,  and  Serge  Grekoff  was  seen 
advancing  with  a  sheaf  of  them  to  claim  Tamara, 
he  suddenly  asked  her  to  have  a  turn,  and  got  up 
to  begin. 

She  placed  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  she  noticed 
he  drew  in  his  breath  sharply  and  winced  in  the 
slightest  degree.  But  when  she  asked  him  if 
something  hurt  him,  and  what  it  was,  he  only 
laughed  and  said  he  was  well,  and  they  must  dance; 
so  away  they  whirled. 

A  feverish  anxiety  and  excitement  convulsed 
Tamara.  What  in  heaven's  name  had  occurred? 

When  they  had  finished  and  were  seated  again 
she  plucked  up  courage  to  ask  him: 

"Prince,  I  feel  sure  Count  Varishkine  is  not 
really  ill.  Something  has  happened.  Tell  me 
what  it  is." 

202 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  never  intended  you  to  dance  the  Mazurka 
with  him,"  was  all  Gritzko  said. 

"And  how  have  you  prevented  it?"  Tamara 
asked,  and  grew  pale  to  her  lips. 

"What  does  it  matter  to  you?"  he  said.  "Are 
you  nervous  about  Boris  ?" 

And  now  he  turned  and  fully  looked  at  her, 
and  she  was  deeply  moved  by  the  expression  in 
his  face. 

He  was  suffering  extremely,  she  could  distin- 
guish that,  but  underneath  the  pain  there  was  a 
wild  triumph,  too.  Her  whole  being  was  wrung. 
Love  and  fear  and  solicitude,  and,  yes,  rebellion 
also  had  its  place.  And  at  last  she  said: 

"I  am  nervous,  not  for  Count  Varishkine,  but 
for  what  you  may  have  done." 

He  leaned  back  and  laughed  with  almost  his 
old  irresponsible  mirth. 

"I  can  take  care  of  my  own  deeds,  thanks, 
Madame,"  he  said. 

And  then  anger  rose  in  Tamara  beyond  sym- 
pathy for  pain. 

She  sat  silent,  staring  in  front  of  her,  the  strain 
of  the  evening  was  beginning  to  tell.  She  hardly 
14  203 


HIS  HOUR 

knew  what  he  said,  or  she  said,  until  the  Mazurka 
was  at  an  end,  all  the  impression  it  left  with  her 
was  one  of  tension  and  fear.  Then  the  polonaise 
formed,  and  they  went  in  to  supper. 

Here  they  were  soon  seated  next  their  own 
special  friends,  and  Gritzko  seemed  to  throw  off 
all  restraint.  He  drank  a  great  deal,  and  then 
poured  out  a  glass  of  brandy  and  mixed  it  with 
the  champagne. 

He  had  never  been  more  brilliant,  and  kept  the 
table  in  a  roar,  while  much  of  his  conversation  was 
addressed  to  Tatiane  She"banoff,  who  sat  on  his 
left  hand. 

Tamara  appeared  as  though  she  were  turned 
into  stone. 

And  so  the  night  wore  on.  It  was  now  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  company  all  went  to 
the  galleries  again  to  watch  the  departure  of  the 
King  and  Queen.  And,  leaning  on  the  marble 
balustrade  next  the  Prince,  Tamara  suddenly 
noticed  a  thin  crimson  stream  trickle  from  under 
his  sleeve  to  his  glove. 

He  saw  it,  too,  and  with  an  impatient  exclamation 
of  annoyance  he  moved  back  and  disappeared  in 
204 


HIS  HOUR 

the  crowd.  The  rest  of  the  ball  for  Tamara  was  a 
ghastly  blank,  although  they  kept  it  up  with 
immense  spirit  until  very  late. 

She  seemed  unable  to  get  near  the  Princess,  she 
was  always  surrounded,  and  when  at  last  she  did 
come  upon  her  in  deep  converse  with  Valonne. 

"Tamara,  dear,"  she  said,  "you  must  be  so 
dreadfully  tired.  Slip  off  to  bed.  They  will  go  on 
until  daylight,"  and  there  was  something  in  her 
face  which  prevented  any  questions. 

So,  cold  and  sick  with  apprehension,  poor 
Tamara  crept  to  her  room,  and,  dismissing  her 
weary  maid,  sat  and  rocked  herself  over  her  fire. 

What  horrible  thing  had  occurred  ? 

What  was  the  meaning  of  that  thin  stream  of 
blood? 


CHAPTER  XV 

AMARA  and  her  godmother  did  not  meet 
until  nearly  lunch-time  next  day.  A 
little  before  that  meal  the  Princess  came 
into  her  room.  Tamara  was  still  in  bed,  perfectly 
exhausted  with  the  strain  of  the  night.  The  Prin- 
cess wore  an  anxious  look  of  care,  as  she  walked 
from  the  window  to  the  dressing  table  and  then 
back  again.  Finally  she  sat  down  and  took  up  a 
glove  which  was  lying  on  a  cushion  near. 

"Tamara,  you  saw  I  talked  last  night  with 
Valonne,  and  this  morning  I  sent  for  Serge  Grekoff , 
but  he  would  not  come,  so  I  got  Valonne  again." 
She  paused  an  instant.  "I  was  extremely  worried 
last  night  about  Gritzko.  I  dare  say  you  were  not 
to  blame,  dear,  but " 

"Please  tell  me,  Marraine,"  and  poor  Tamara 
sat  up  and  pushed  her  hair  back. 

"It  appears,  as  far  at  I  can  gather,  they  all  dined 
at  the  Fontonka  house — Boris  Varishkine  and 
Gritzko  have  always  been  great  friends — and  at 
206 


HIS  HOUR 

the  end  of  dinner — Valonne  imagines,  because  no 
one  is  sure  what  took  place  between  them  at  this 
stage — Gritzko,  it  is  supposed,  said  to  Boris  in 
quite  an  amiable  way  that  he  did  not  wish  him  to 
dance  the  Mazurka  with  you,  but  to  relinquish  his 
right  in  his — Gritzko's — favor." 

She  paused  again,  and  Tamara's  eyes  fixed 
themselves  in  fascinated  fear  on  her  face.  The 
Princess,  after  smoothing  out  the  glove  in  her  hand 
with  a  nervous  energy,  went  on: 

"They  had  all  had  quite  enough  champagne, 
of  course,  and  apparently  Boris  refused,  and 
suggested  that  they  should  toss  up,  and  whoever 
won  the  toss  should  have  first  shot  in  the  dark." 

"Yes,"  said  Tamara  faintly. 

"You  know,  dear,  our  boys  are  often  very  wild, 
and  they  have  a  game  they  play  when  they  are  at 
the  end  of  their  tether  for  something  to  do  when 
quartered  in  some  hopeless  outpost — a  kind  of 
blind-man 's-bufi7 — only  it  is  all  in  the  dark,  and  the 
blind  man  stands  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  the 
rest  clap  hands  and  then  dodge,  and  he  fires  his 
revolver  at  the  point  the  sound  seems  to  come  from, 
and  the  object  is  not  to  get  shot.  You  may  have 
207 


HIS  HOUR 

noticed  Sasha  Basmanoff  has  no  left  thumb?  He 
lost  it  last  year  on  just  such  a  night." 

"Oh!  Marraine,  how  dreadful!"  Tamara  said. 

"It  is  perhaps  not  a  very  civilized  game,"  the 
Princess  continued,"  but  we  are  not  discussing 
that,  I  am  telling  you  what  occurred.  Well,  from 
this  point  Valonne  and  the  rest  were  eyewitnesses. 
Gritzko  and  Boris,  still  laughing  in  rather  a  strained 
way,  said  they  had  some  slight  difference  of  opinion 
to  settle,  and  had  decided  to  do  it  in  the  ballroom, 
in  the  dark.  I  won't  go  into  details  of  how  many 
steps  to  the  right  or  left,  the  impromptu  seconds 
arranged,  only  it  was  settled  when  Sasha  at  one 
end  and  Serge  at  the  other  should  shut  the  doors 
they  should  both  fire,  and  if  in  three  times  neither 
was  shot,  both  should  give  up  their  claim." 

"It  is  too  horrible!  and  for  such  a  trifle,"  Tamara 
said,  clutching  the  bedclothes,  and  the  Princess 
went  on. 

"Valonne  said  they  were  both  hit  in  the  first 
round,  and  all  the  company  burst  into  the  room. 
Nothing  seemed  very  serious,  and  they  laughed 
and  shook  hands.  So  Valonne  left  to  be  in  time 
for  the  ball,  but  this  morning,  he  told  me,  he  found 
208 


HIS  HOUR 

Boris  Varishkine  had  had  a  shoulder  wound  which 
bled  very  badly  and  quite  prevented  his  coming, 
while  Gritzko  was  shot  through  the  flesh  of  the 
right  arm,  and  as  soon  as  they  could  bind  it  up 
decently,  as  you  know,  he  came  on." 

Tamara's  face  was  as  white  as  her  pillow.  She 
clasped  her  hands  with  a  movement  of  anguish. 

"Oh!  Marraine,  I  am  too  unhappy,"  she  wailed. 
"Indeed,  indeed,  I  did  nothing  to  cause  this.  You 
heard  me,  I  only  said  to  Count  Varishkine  I  was 
looking  forward  to  the  dance.  He  is  impossible, 
Gritzko.  Oh!  let  me  go  home!" 

"Alas!  my  child,  what  would  be  the  good  of 
that?  If  you  went  off  to-night  instead  of  coming 
to  Moscow,  it  might  create  a  talk;  what  we  want  is 
to  prevent  a  scandal,  to  hush  everything  up.  None 
of  these  men  will  tell,  and  your  name  will  not  be 
dragged  into  it.  And  if  we  go  on  our  trip  amicably 
as  was  arranged  it  will  discountenance  rumor. 
Gritzko  and  Boris  are  quite  friends  again.  And  if 
anything  about  the  shooting  does  leak  out,  if  no 
one  has  further  cause  for  connecting  you  with  it, 
they  will  generally  think  it  merely  one  of  Gritzko 's 
mad  parties.  For  heaven's  sake  let  it  all  blow  over, 
209 


HIS  HOUR 

and  after  Moscow  and  a  reasonable  time,  not  to 
appear  too  hurried,  you  shall  go  home." 

"But  meanwhile,  how  can  I  know  that  he  won't 
shoot  at  Jack?  or  do  some  other  awful  thing!  He 
does  not  love  me  really  a  bit,  Marraine.  It  is  all 
out  of  pride  and  devilment  because  he  wants  to  win 
and  conquer  me  and  add  me  to  his  scalps,  and  I 
won't  be  conquered.  I  tell  you  I  won't!"  and 
Tamara  clenched  her  hands. 

The  Princess  did  not  know  what  to  say,  she  was 
not  perfectly  sure  in  her  own  mind  as  to  Gritzko's 
feelings,  and  she  was  too  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  his  ways  to  hazard  any  theory  as  to  his  possible 
acts.  She  felt  it  might  not  be  fair  to  assure  her 
godchild  that  he  truly  loved  her.  She  could  only 
think  of  tiding  over  matters  for  the  time  being. 

"Tamara,  dearest,  could  you  at  least  try  to  keep 
the  peace  on  our  trip?"  she  asked.  "Be  gentle 
with  him,  and  do  not  excite  him  in  any  way." 

Tamara  buried  her  face  in  her  pillows,  she  was 
too  English  to  be  dramatic  and  sob;  but  when  she 
spoke  her  soft  voice  trembled  a  little  and  her  eyes 
glistened  with  tears. 

"He  is  horribly  cruel,  Marraine,"  she  said. 
210 


HIS  HOUR 

"Why  should  he  treat  me  as  he  does.  I  won't — I 
won't  bear  it." 

The  Princess  sighed. 

"Tamara,  forgive  me  for  asking  you,  but  I  must, 
I  feel  I  must.  Do  you — love  him,  child  ?" 

Then  passion  flamed  up  in  Tamara's  white  face, 
her  secret  was  her  own,  and  she  would  defend  it 
even  from  this  kind  friend — so — **I  believe  I  hate 
him!"  she  said. 

After  a  while  the  Princess  left  her,  they  having 
come  to  the  agreement  that  Tamara  should  do  all 
that  she  could  to  keep  the  peace;  but  when  she  was 
alone  she  decided  to  speak  to  Gritzko  as  little  as 
possible  herself,  and  to  ignore  him  completely, 
There  would  be  no  Boris  and  no  one  to  make  him 
jealous.  She  would  occupy  herself  with  Stephen 
Strong,  and  the  sight-seeing,  and  even  Sonia's 
husband,  who  was  a  bore  and  old,  too;  but  the 
prospect  held  out  no  charms  for  her,  She  knew 
that  she  loved  him  deeply — this  wild,  fierce  Gritzko 
— more  deeply  than  ever  to-day,  and  the  tears,  one 
after  another,  trickled  down  her  pale  cheeks. 

If  there  was  not  a  chance  of  any  happiness,  at 
least  she  must  go  home  keeping  some  rag  of  self- 


HIS  HOUR 

respect.  She  firmly  determined  that  he  should  not 
see  the  slightest  feeling  on  her  side,  it  should  be 
restrained  or  perhaps  capricious  even,  as  his  own. 

Their  train  for  Moscow  started  at  nine  o'clock, 
and  the  whole  party  had  arranged  to  dine  at  the 
Ardacheff  house  at  seven  and  then  go  to  the 
station. 

Nothing  of  the  scandal  of  the  night  seemed  to 
have  transpired,  for  no  one  even  hinted  at  anything 
about  it. 

Gritzko  was  still  very  pale,  but  appeared  none 
the  worse,  and  the  atmosphere  seemed  to  have 
resumed  a  peaceful  note. 

The  five  sleeping  compartments  reserved  for 
this  party  of  ten  were  all  in  a  row  in  one  carriage, 
and  Tamara  and  the  Princess,  on  the  plea  of 
fatigue,  immediately  retired  to  their  berths  for  the 
night,  Tamara  not  having  addressed  a  single  direct 
word  to  Gritzko.  So  far,  so  well.  But  when 
she  was  comfortably  tucked  into  the  top  berth, 
and  an  hour  or  so  later  was  just  falling  off  to 
sleep,  he  knocked  at  the  door,  and  the  Princess 
believing  it  to  be  the  ticket-collector  opened  it,  and 
he  put  his  head  in.  The  shade  was  drawn  over 


HIS  HOUR 

the  lamp  and  the  compartment  was  in  a  blue 
gloom.  Tamara  was  startled  by  hearing  her 
godmother  say: 

"  Gritzko !  Thou !  What  do  you  want,  dear  boy, 
disturbing  us  like  this  ?" 

"I  came  to  ask  you  to  tie  up  my  arm,"  he  said. 
"I  was  practising  with  a  pistol  yesterday,  and  it 
went  off  and  the  bullet  grazed  the  skin,  and  the 
damned  thing  has  begun  bleeding  again.  I  know 
you  are  a  trained  nurse,  Tantine.  Serge,  who  is 
with  me,  has  tried  and  made  a  ridiculous  mess  of 
it,  so  I  brought  the  bandage  to  you." 

He  now  pulled  back  the  shade  and  they  saw  he 
was  standing  there  quite  sans  gene  in  the  same 
kind  of  blue  silk  pyjamas  Tamara  remembered 
to  have  seen  once  before,  and  his  eyes,  far  from 
being  tragic  or  serious,  had  the  naughtiest,  most 
mischievous  twinkle  in  them,  while  he  whispered 
to  the  Princess  and  enlisted  her  sympathy  for  his 
pain. 

"Gritzko,  dearest  child,  but  you  are  suffering! 
But  let  me  see!  only  wait  in  the  passage  until  I  have 
my  dressing-gown,  and  then  come  in  again." 

Tamara  now  thought  it  prudent  to  crouch  down 
213 


HIS  HOUR 

in  the  clothes  and  pretend  to  be  asleep,  while  the 
kind  Princess  got  up  and  arranged  herself. 

Then  with  a  gentle  tap  this  poor  wounded  one 
came  in.  , 

Tamara  was  conscious  that  her  godmother  was 
murmuring  horrified  and  affectionate  solicitations, 
as  she  busily  set  to  work.  She  was  also  conscious 
that  Gritzko  was  standing  with  his  shoulder  leant 
against  her  berth.  He  was  so  tall  he  could  look  at 
her,  in  spite  of  her  retirement  to  the  farthest  side, 
and  she  was  horribly  conscious  of  the  magnetic 
power  exercised  by  his  eyes.  She  longed  quite  to 
open  hers,  she  longed  really  to  look.  She  felt  so 
nervous  she  almost  gave  a  silly  little  laugh,  but  her 
will  won,  and  her  long  eyelashes  remained  resting 
on  her  cheek. 

"You  darling.  You  are  doing  it  beautifully!" 
he  presently  said,  and  then  more  softly,  "I  had  no 
idea  how  pretty  your  friend  is!  and  how  soundly 
she  sleeps !  Do  you  think  I  might  kiss  her,  Tantine  ? 
I  have  always  wanted  to,  only  she  is  of  such  a  sever- 
ity I  have  been  too  frightened.  May  I,  Tantine?" 
And  his  voice  sounded  coaxing  and  sweet,  and 
Tamara  felt  sure  he  was  caressing  the  Princess* 
214 


HIS  HOUR 

hair  with  his  free  hand,  for  that  lady  kept  murmur* 
ing. 

"Tais  toi! — Gritzko — have  done!  How  can  I 
bind  your  arm  if  you  conduct  yourself  so!  Not  a 
moment  of  stillness!  Truly  what  a  naughty  child 
— keep  still!"  Then  she  spoke  more  severely  to 
him  in  Russian,  and  he  laughed  while  he  answered, 
and  then  presently  the  bandage  was  done,  and 
standing  on  tip-toe  he  looked  full  at  Tamara. 

"And  you  think  I  must  not  kiss  her?  Oh!  you 
are  a  most  cruel  Tantine!  She  is  sound  asleep  and 
would  never  know,  and  it  would  be  just  one  of  the 
things  which  could  cool  my  fever  and  help  my 
arm." 

But  the  Princess  interposed,  sternly,  and  getting 
really  annoyed  with  him,  he  was  forced  to  go.  But 
first  he  kissed  her  hand  and  thanked  her  and  purred 
affection  and  gratitude  with  his  astonishing  charm, 
and  the  Princess*  voice  grew  more  and  more 
mollified  as  she  said:  "There — there — what  a  boy! 
Gritzko,  dear  child,  begone!" 

And  all  this  while,  with  her  long  eyelashes  resting 
upon  her  cheek,  Tamara  apparently  slept  peace- 
fully on. 

215 


HIS  HOUR 

But  when  the  door  was  safely  shut  and  bolted, 
the  Princess  addressed  her. 

"  You  are  not  really  asleep,  Tamara,  I  suppose," 
she  said.  "You  have  heard?  Is  he  not  difficult. 
What  is  one  to  do  with  him?  I  can  never  remain 
angry  long.  Those  caresses!  Mon  Dieu!  I  wish 
you  would  love  each  other  and  marry  and  go  and 
live  at  Milasldv,  and  then  we  others  might  have  a 
little  peace  and  calm!" 

"Marry  him,"  and  Tamara  raised  herself  in 
bed.  "One  might  as  well  marry  a  panther  in  a 
jungle,  it  would  be  quite  as  safe!"  she  said. 

But  the  Princess  shook  her  head.  "There  you 
are  altogether  wrong,"  she  replied.  "Once  there 
were  no  continuous  obstacles  to  his  will,  he  would 
be  gentle  and  adoring,  he  would  be  as  tender  and 
thoughtful  as  he  is  to  me  when  I  am  ill." 

Then  into  Tamara 's  brain  there  rushed  visions 
of  the  unutterable  pleasure  this  tenderness  would 
mean,  and  she  said: 

"Don't  let  us  talk;— I  want  to  sleep,  Marraine." 

And  in  the  morning  they  arrived  at  Moscow. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

E  whole  day  of  the  sight-seeing  passed 
with  comparative  smoothness,  Tamara 
persistently  remained  with  Sonia's  hus- 
band or  Stephen  Strong,  when  any  moment  came 
that  she  should  be  alone  with  any  man. 

She  was  apparently  indifferent  to  Gritzko, 
— considering  that  she  was  throbbing  with  interest 
in  his  every  movement  and  inwardly  longing  to 
talk  to  him — she  kept  up  the  rdle  she  had  set  herself 
to  play  very  well.  It  was  not  an  agreeable  one, 
and  but  for  the  inward  feverish  excitement  she 
would  have  suffered  much  pain. 

Gritzko  for  his  part  seemed  whimsically  in- 
different for  most  of  the  time,  but  once  now  and 
then  the  Princess,  who  watched  things  as  the 
god  in  the  car,  experienced  a  sense  of  uneasiness. 
And  yet  she  could  not  suggest  any  other  line  of 
conduct  for  Tamara  to  pursue.  But  on  the  whole 
the  day  was  a  success. 

The  two  young  English  guests  had  both  been 
217 


HIS  HOUR 

extremely  interested  in  what  they  saw.  Stephen 
Strong  was  an  old  hand  and  knew  it  intimately, 
and  the  whole  party  was  so  merry  and  gay.  The 
snow  fortunately  had  held,  and  they  rushed  about 
in  little  sleighs  seeing  the  quaint  buildings  and 
picturesque  streets  and  the  churches  with  their 
bright  gilt  domes.  Moscow  was  really  Russian, 
Prince  Solentzeff-Zasiekin  told  them,  unlike  Peters- 
burg, which  at  a  first  glance  might  be  Berlin  or 
Vienna,  or  anywhere  else;  but  Moscow  is  like  no 
other  city  in  the  world. 

"How  extremely  good  you  Russians  must  be," 
Tamara  said.  "The  quantities  of  churches  you 
have,  and  everywhere  the  people  seem  so  devout. 
Look  at  them  kissing  that  Ikon  in  the  street!  Such 
faith  is  beautiful  to  see." 

"Our  faith  is  our  safeguard,"  her  companion 
said.  "When  the  people  become  sufficiently  edu- 
cated to  have  doubts  then,  indeed,  a  sad  day  will 
come." 

"They   have   such   grave    patient   faces,    don't 

you    think?"    said    Stephen    Strong.     "It   is    not 

exactly  a  hopeless  expression,  it  is  more  one  of 

resignation.     Whenever  I  come  here  I  feel  of  what 

218 


HIS  HOUR 

use  is  strife,  and  yet  after  a  while  they  make  one 
melancholy." 

They  were  waiting  by  the  house  of  the  Romanoffs, 
for  their  guide  to  open  the  door,  and  just  then  a 
batch  of  beggars  passed,  their  wild  hah*  and  terribly 
ragged  sheepskins  making  them  a  queer  gruesome 
sight.  They  craved  alms  with  the  same  patient 
smile  with  which  they  thanked  when  money  was 
given.  Misery  seemed  to  stalk  about  a  good 
deal. 

"How  could  a  great  family  have  lived  in  this  tiny 
house?"  Tamara  asked.  "Really,  people  in  olden 
times  seem  to  have  been  able  to  double  up  any- 
where. Pray  look  at  this  bedroom  and  this  ridicu- 
lous bed!" 

"It  will  prepare  you  for  what  you  are  coming 
to  at  Milaslav,"  Gritzko  said.  "A  row  of  tent 
stretchers  for  everyone  together  in  the  hall ! " 

Tamara  made  no  answer,  she  contrived  to  move 
on  directly  he  spoke,  and  her  reply  now  was  to 
the  general  company,  as  it  had  been  all  day. 

If  she  had  looked  back  then  she  would  have 
seen  a  gleam  in  his  eyes  which  boded  no  peace. 
She  thought  she  was  doing  everything  for  the  best, 
is  219 


HIS  HOUR 

but  each  rebuff  was  adding  fuel  to  that  wild  fire 
in  his  blood. 

By  the  end  of  the  day,  after  walks  through  the 
Treasury  and  museums,  and  what  not,  and  never 
having  been  able  to  speak  to  Tamara,  his  temper 
was  at  boiling  point.  But  he  controlled  it,  and 
his  face  wore  a  mask,  which  disarmed  even  the 
Princess'  fears. 

Their  dinner  was  very  gay,  and  the  Russians 
asked  Lord  Courtray  what  had  impressed  him  most. 

"I  like  the  story  of  Ivan  the  Terrible  putting 
his  jolly  old  alpenstock  through  the  fellow's  foot 
on  the  stairs  when  he  came  with  the  letter,"  Jack 
said.  "Sensible  sort  of  thing  to  do.  Kept  the 
messenger  in  place." 

Meanwhile  Tamara  was  conversing  in  a  lower 
voice  with  Stephen  Strong. 

"The  more  you  stay  in  this  country,  the  more 
it  fascinates  you,"  he  said.  "And  you  feel  you 
have  got  back  to  some  of  the  fierce  primitive  pas- 
sions of  nature.  Here,  in  Moscow,  the  whole 
earth  must  be  stained  with  wild  orgies  and  blood, 
and  yet  they  are  full  of  poetry  and  romance.  Even 
Ivan  the  Terrible  had  his  religious  side,  and  every 
220 


HIS  HOUR 

creature  of  them  believes  in  the  saints  and  the 
priests.  It  is  said  the  impostor  who  posed  as  Ivan's 
son  might  have  succeeded  had  he  not  been  too 
kind,  he  showed  clemency  to  Shuisky  and  his 
enemies  and  did  not  have  them  torn  to  pieces,  so  the 
people  would  not  believe  he  could  be  the  Terrible's 
son!  And  they  chased  him  to  that  window  you 
remember  we  saw  in  the  old  palace  of  the  Kremlin 
and  there  he  had  to  throw  himself  out." 

"It  makes  one  wonder  what  can  arise  from  a 
history  of  such  horrible  crimes,"  Tamara  said. 

"You  must  not  forget  that  the  country  is  prac- 
tically three  hundred  years  behind  the  times, 
though,"  Stephen  Strong  went  on.  "No  doubt 
quite  as  great  horrors  marked  others  if  we  look  at 
them  at  an  equivalent  stage  of  development.  It  is 
missing  this  point  which  makes  most  strangers, 
and  many  foreign  historians,  so  unjust  to  Russia 
and  her  people.  The  national  qualities  are  im- 
measurably great,  but  as  a  civilized  nation  they  are 
so  very  young." 

"I  believe  one  could  grow  to  love  them,"  Tamara 
said.     "I  have  never  had  the  feeling  that  I  am 
among  strangers  since  I  have  been  here." 
221 


HIS  HOUR 

Then  she  wondered  vaguely  why  Stephen  Strong 
smiled  softly  to  himself. 

By  the  end  of  dinner,  Gritzko's  eyes  were  blazing, 
and  he  suggested  every  sort  of  astonishing  way  to 
spend  the  night.  But  Princess  Ardacheff,  as  the 
doyenne  of  the  party,  prudently  put  her  foot 
down,  and  insisted  upon  bed.  For  had  they  not 
a  whole  morning  of  sight-seeing  still  to  do  on  the 
morrow,  and  then  their  thirty  versts  in  troikas 
to  arrive  at  Milaslav.  So  the  ladies  all  trouped 
off  to  rest. 

"Leave  your  door  open  into  my  room,  Tamara 
dear,  if  you  do  not  mind,"  her  godmother  said. 
*'I  am  always  nervous  in  hotels " 

"I  trust  everything  is  going  quietly,"  she  added 
to  herself,  "but  one  never  can  tell." 

Next  day  the  whole  sky  was  leaden  with  un- 
fallen  snow.  Nothing  more  strange  and  gloomy 
and  barbaric  than  Moscow  looked  could  have  been 
imagined,  Tamara  thought.  It  brought  out  the 
gilt  domes  and  the  unusual  colors  of  things  in  a 
lurid  way. 

Their  first  visit  was  to  the  Church  of  the  Assump- 
tion, where  the  emperors  are  crowned.  Its  great 
222 


HIS  HOUR 

beauty  and  rich  colors  pleased  the  eye.  The  totally 
different  arrangement  of  things  from  any  other  sort 
of  church — the  shape  and  the  absence  of  chairs 
or  seats— the  hidden  altar  behind  the  doors  of  the 
sanctuary — the  numerous  pictures  and  frescoed 
walls — all  gave  it  a  mysterious,  wonderful  charm, 
and  here  again  the  two  English  were  struck  by  the 
people's  simple  faith. 

"We  would  catch  every  sort  of  disease  kissing 
those  Ikons  after  filthy  ulcerated  beggars,"  Stephen 
Strong  said  to  Tamara.  "But  the  belief  that 
only  good  can  come  to  them  brings  only  good. 
The  study  of  these  people  makes  one  less  material- 
istic and  full  of  common  sense.  One  puts  more 
credence  in  things  occult." 

A  service  was  just  beginning,  it  was  some  high 
saint's  day,  and  the  beautiful  singing,  the  boys' 
angel  voices  and  the  deep  bass  of  the  priests,  un- 
accompanied by  any  instruments  or  organ,  im- 
pressed Tamara  far  more  in  this  old  temple  than 
the  services  had  done  in  any  of  the  St.  Petersburg 
churches. 

A  peace  fell  on  her  soul,  and  just  as  the  gipsies' 
music  had  been  of  the  devil,  so  this  seemed  to  come 
223 


HIS  HOUR 

from  heaven  itself.     She  felt  calmed  and  happier 
when  they  came  out. 

After  an  early  lunch  they  saw  from  the  hotel 
windows  three  troikas  drawn  up.  Two  of  them 
Gritzko's,  and  one  belonging  to  Prince  Solentzeff- 
Zasiekin,  who  had  also  a  country  place  in  the 
neighbourhood. 

The  two,  which  had  come  a  day  or  so  before  from 
MilaslaV,  were  indeed  wonderful  turn-outs.  The 
Prince  prided  himself  upon  his  horses,  which  were 
renowned  throughout  Europe. 

The  graceful  shaped  sleighs,  with  the  drivers 
in  their  quaint  liveries  standing  up  to  drive,  'always 
unconsciously  suggest  that  their  origin  must  have 
been  some  chariot  from  Rome. 

Gritzko's  colors  were  a  rich  greenish-blue, 
while  the  reins  and  velvet  caps  and  belts  of  the 
drivers  were  a  dull  cerise;  the  caps  were  braided 
with  silver,  while  they  and  the  coats  and  the  blue 
velvet  rugs  were  lined  and  bordered  with  sable. 
One  set  of  horses  was  coal  black,  and  the  others 
a  dark  gray.  Everything  seemed  in  keeping  with 
the  buildings,  and  the  semi-Byzantine  scene  with 
its  Oriental  note  of  picturesque  grace. 
224 


HIS  HOUR 

"Which  will  you  choose  to  go  in,  Madame?" 
Gritzko  asked.  "Shall  you  be  drawn  by  the  blacks 
or  the  grays  ?  " 

"I  would  prefer  the  blacks,"  Tamara  replied. 
"I  always  love  black  horses,  and  these  are  such 
beautiful  ones."  And  so  it  was  arranged. 

"  If  you  will  come  with  Stephen  and  me,  Tantine," 
the  Prince  said,  "we  shall  be  the  lighter  load  and 
get  there  first.  Madame  Loraine  and  Olga  can 
go  with  Serge  and  Lord  Courtray,  they  will  take 
the  blacks;  that  leaves  Valonne  for  Sonia  and  her 
husband.  Will  this  please  everyone?" 

Apparently  it  did,  for  thus  they  started.  It 
was  an  enchanting  drive  over  the  snow.  They 
seemed  to  fly  along,  once  they  had  left  the  town, 
and  the  weird  bleak  country,  unmarked  by  any 
boundaries,  impressed  both  Tamara  and  Jack. 
And  while  Tamara  was  speculating  upon  its  mys- 
tical side,  Lord  Courtray  was  gauging  its  pos- 
sibilities for  sport. 

They  at  last  skirted  a  dark  forest,  which  seemed 
to  stretch  for  miles,  and  then  after  nearly  three 
hours'  drive  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  Milasldv. 

They  went  through  a  wild,  rough  sort  of  park, 


HIS  HOUR 

and  then  came  in  view  of  the  house — a  great  place 
with  tall  Ionic  pillars  supporting  the  front,  and 
wings  on  each  side — while  beyond,  stretching 
in  an  irregular  mass,  was  a  wooden  structure  of  a 
much  earlier  date. 

It  all  appeared  delightfully  incongruous  and  a 
trifle  makeshift  to  Tamara  and  Jack  when  they 
got  out  of  their  sleigh  and  were  welcomed  by  their 
host. 

A  bare  hall,  at  one  side  showing  discolored 
marks  of  mould  on  the  wall,  decorated  in  what 
was  the  Russian  Empire  style,  a  beautiful  concep- 
tion retaining  the  classic  lines  of  the  French  and 
yet  with  an  added  richness  of  its  own.  Then  on 
up  to  a  first  floor  above  a  low  rez  de  chaussee  by 
wide  stairs.  These  connecting  portions  of  the 
house  seemed  unfurnished  and  barren, — walls  of 
stone  or  plaster  with  here  and  there  a  dilapidated 
decoration.  It  almost  would  appear  as  if  they 
were  meant  to  be  shut  off  from  the  living  rooms^ 
like  the  hall  of  a  block  of  flats.  The  whole  thing 
struck  a  strange  note.  There  were  quantities  of 
servants  in  their  quaint  liveries  about,  and  when 
finally  they  arrived  in  a  great  saloon  it  was  bright 
226 


HIS  HOUR 

and  warm,  though  there  was  no  open  fireplace, 
only  the  huge  porcelain  stove. 

Here  the  really  beautiful,  though  rather  florid 
Alexander  I.  style  struggled  from  the  walls  with 
an  appalling  set  of  furniture  of  the  period  of  Alex- 
ander II.  But  the  whole  thing  had  an  odd  unfin- 
ished look,  and  a  fine  portrait  of  the  Prince's 
grandfather  in  one  panel  was  entirely  riddled  with 
shot! 

Some  splendid  skins  of  bears  and  wolves  were 
on  the  floor,  and  there  was  a  general  air  of  the  room 
being  lived  in — though  magnificence  and  dilapi- 
dation mingled  everywhere.  The  very  rich  bro- 
cade on  one  of  the  sofas  had  the  traces  of  great 
rents.  And  while  one  table  held  cigarette  cases 
and  cigar  boxes  in  the  most  exquisitely  fine  enamel 
set  with  jewels,  on  another  would  be  things  of  the 
roughest  wood.  And  a  cabinet  at  the  side  filled 
with  a  priceless  collection  of  snuff  boxes  and  bon- 
bonnitres  of  Catherine's  time  had  the  glass  of  one 
door  cracked  into  a  star  of  splinters. 

Tamara  had  a  sudden  sensation  of  being  a  mil- 
lion miles  away  from  England  and  her  family:  it 
all  came  as  a  breath  of  some  other  life.  She  felt 
227 


HIS  HOUR 

strangely  nervous,  she  had  not  the  least  notion 
why.  There  was  a  reckless  look  about  things 
which  caused  a  weird  thrill. 

"If  it  were  only  arranged,  what  capabilities  it  all 
has,"  she  thought;  "but  as  it  is,  it  seems  to  speak 
of  Gritzko  and  fierce  strife." 

Tea  and  the  usual  quantities  of  bonnes  bouches 
and  vodka  waited  them  and  a  bowl  of  hot  punch. 

And  all  three  English  people,  Stephen  Strong, 
Tamara  and  Jack,  admired  their  host's  gracious 
welcome,  and  his  courtly  manners.  Not  a  trace 
of  the  wild  Gritzko  seemed  left. 

Tamara  wondered  secretly  what  their  sleeping 
accommodation  would  be  like. 

"Tantine,  you  must  act  hostess  for  me.  Will 
you  show  these  ladies  their  rooms,"  the  Prince 
said.  "Dinner  is  at  eight  o'clock,  but  you  have 
lots  of  time  before  for  a  little  bridge  if  you  want." 

He  took  them  through  the  usual  amount  of 
reception-rooms — a  billiard-room  and  library,  and 
small  boudoir — and  then  they  came  out  on  another 
staircase  which  led  to  the  floor  above.  Here  he 
left  them  and  returned  to  the  men. 

"  This  was  done  up  by  the  late  Princess,  Tamara," 


HIS  HOUR 

her  godmother  said.  "Even  twenty  years  ago 
the  taste  was  perfectly  awful,  as  you  can  see. 
The  whole  house  could  be  made  beautiful  if  only 
there  was  someone  who  cared — though  I  expect 
we  shall  be  comfortable  enough." 

The  top  passage  proved  to  be  wide,  but  only 
distempered  in  two  colors,  like  the  walls  of  a  sta- 
tion waiting-room.  Not  the  slightest  attempt  to 
beautify  or  furnish  with  carved  chairs,  and  cabinets 
of  china,  and  portraits  and  tapestry  on  the  walls, 
as  in  an  English  house.  In  the  passage  all  was 
as  plain  as  a  barrack. 

Tamara's  room  and  the  Princess'  joined. 
They  were  both  gorgeously  upholstered  in  crude 
blue  satin  brocade,  and  full  of  gilt  heavy  furniture, 
but  in  each  there  was  a  modern  brass  bed. 

They  were  immense  apartments,  and  warm 
and  bright,  monuments  of  the  taste  of  1878. 

"Is  it  not  incredible,  Marraine,  that  with  the 
beautiful  models  of  the  eighteenth  century  in  front 
of  them,  people  could  have  perpetrated  this? 
Waves  of  awful  taste  seem  to  come,  and  artists  lose 
their  sense  of  beauty  and  produce  the  grotesque." 

"This  is  a  paradise  compared  to  some,"  the 
229 


HIS  HOUR 

Princess  laughed.  "You  should  see  my  sister-in- 
law's  place!" 

One  bridge  table  was  made  up  already  when 
they  got  back  to  the  saloon,  and  Sonia,  Serge 
Grekoff  and  Valonne,  only  waited  the  Princess' 
advent  to  begin  their  game. 

It  seemed  to  be  an  understood  thing  that  Gritzko 
and  his  English  guest  should  be  left  out,  and  so 
practically  alone. 

"I  feel  it  is  my  duty  to  learn  to  play  better," 
Tamara  said,  "so  I  am  going  to  watch." 

He  put  down  his  hand  and  seized  her  wrist. 
"You  shall  certainly  not,"  he  said.  "You  cannot 
be  so  rude  as  deliberately  to  controvert  your  host. 
It  is  my  pleasure  that  you  shall  sit  here  and  talk." 

His  eyes  were  flashing,  and  Tamara's  spirit  rose. 

"What  a  savage  you  are,  Prince,"  she  laughed. 
"Everything  must  be  only  as  you  wish!  That  I 
want  to  watch  the  bridge  does  not  enter  into  your 
consideration." 

"Not  a  bit." 

"Well,  then,  since  I  must  stay  here  I  shall  be 
disagreeable  and  not  say  a  word." 

And  she  sat  down  primly  and  folded  her  hands. 
230 


HIS  HOUR 

He  lit  a  cigarette,  and  she  noticed  his  hand 
trembled  a  little,  but  his  voice  was  quite  steady, 
and  in  fact  low  as  he  said: 

"I  tell  you  frankly,  if  you  go  on  treating  me  as 
you  have  done  to-day,  whatever  happens  is  on 
your  head." 

"Do  you  mean  to  strangle  me  then? — or  have 
me  torn  up  by  dogs?"  and  Tamara  smiled 
provokingly.  With  all  the  others  in  the  room, 
and  almost  within  earshot,  she  felt  perfectly  safe. 

She  had  suffered  so  much,  it  seemed  good  to 
oppose  him  a  little,  when  it  could  not  entail  a  duel 
with  some  unoffending  man! 

"I  do  not  know  yet  what  I  shall  be  impelled  to 
do,  only  I  warn  you,  if  you  tease  me,  you  will  pay 
the  price."  And  he  puffed  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

"He  can  do  nothing  to-night,"  Tamara  thought, 
"and  to-morrow  we  are  going  back  to  Moscow, 
and  then  I  am  returning  home."  A  spirit  of 
devilment  was  in  her.  Nearly  always  it  had  been 
he  who  regulated  things,  and  now  it  was  her  turn. 
She  had  been  so  very  unhappy,  and  had  only  the 
outlook  of  dullness  and  regret.  To-night  she 
would  retaliate,  she  would  do  as  she  felt  inclined. 
231 


HIS  HOUR 

So  she  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  smiled, 
making  a  tantalizing  moue  at  him,  while  she  said, 
mockingly: 

"Aren't  you  a  barbarian,  Prince!  Only  the 
days  of  Ivan  the  Terrible  are  over,  thank  goodness !" 

He  took  a  chair  and  sat  down  quietly,  but  the 
tone  of  his  voice  should  have  warned  her  as  he 
said: 

"You  are  counting  upon  the  unknown." 

She  peeped  at  him  now  through  half-closed 
alluring  lids,  and  she  noticed  he  was  very  pale. 

In  her  quiet,  well-ordered  life  she  had  never 
come  in  contact  with  real  passion.  She  had  not 
the  faintest  idea  of  the  vast  depths  she  was  stirring. 
All  she  knew  was  she  loved  him  very  much,  and 
the  whole  thing  galled  her  pride  horribly.  It 
seemed  a  satisfaction,  a  salve  to  her  wounded 
vanity,  to  be  able  to  make  him  feel,  to  punish  him 
a  little  for  all  her  pain, 

*  Think!  This  time  next  week.  I  shall  be  safe 
in  peaceful  England,  where  we  have  not  to  com- 
bat the  unknown." 

"No?" 

"No.  Marraine  and  I  have  settled  everything. 
232 


HIS  HOUR 

1  take  the  Wednesday's  Nord  Express  after  we 
get  back  to  Petersburg." 

"And  to-morrow  is  Friday,  and  there  are  yet 
five  days.  Well,  we  must  contrive  to  show  you 
some  more  scenes  of  our  uncivilized  country,  and 
perhaps  after  all  you  won't  go." 

Tamara  laughed  with  gay  scorn.  She  put  out 
her  little  foot  and  tapped  the  edge  of  the  great 
stove. 

"For  once  I  shall  do  as  I  please,  Prince.  I  shall 
not  ask  your  leave!" 

His  eyes  seemed  to  gleam,  and  he  lay  perfectly 
still  in  his  chair  like  some  panther  watching  its 
prey.  Tamara 's  blood  was  up.  She  would  not 
be  dominated!  She  continued  mocking  and  defy- 
ing him  until  she  drove  him  gradually  mad. 

But  on  one  thing  she  had  counted  rightly,  he 
could  do  nothing  with  them  all  in  the  room. 

First  one  and  then  another  left  their  game,  and 
joined  them  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  went  back. 

And  so  in  this  fashion  the  late  afternoon  passed 
and  they  went  up  to  dress. 

No  one  was  down  in  the  great  saloon  when 
Tamara  and  the  Princess  descended  for  dinner, 


HIS  HOUR 

but  as  they  entered,  Stephen  Strong  and  Valonne 
came  in  from  the  opposite  door  and  joined  them 
near  the  stove,  and  Tamara  and  Valonne  talked, 
while  the  other  two  wandered  to  a  distant  couch. 

"Have  you  ever  been  to  any  of  these  wonderful 
parties  one  hears  have  taken  place,  Count  Valonne  ?" 
she  asked. 

Valonne  smiled  his  enigmatic  smile.  "Yes," 
he  said.  "I  have  once  or  twice — perhaps  you 
think  this  room  shows  traces  of  some  rather  violent 
amusements,  and  really  on  looking  round,  I 
believe  it  does!" 

Tamara  shivered  slightly.  She  had  the  feeling 
known  as  a  goose  walking  over  her  grave. 

"It  is  as  if  wild  animals  played  here — hardly 
human  beings,"  she  said.  "Look  at  that  cabinet, 
and  the  sofa,  and — and — that  picture!  One  can- 
not help  reflecting  upon  what  caused  those  holes. 
One's  imagination  can  conjure  up  extraordinary 
things." 

"Not    more    extraordinary    than    the    probable 
facts,"  and  Valonne  laughed  as  if  at  some  astonish- 
ing  recollection.     "You   have   not   yet   seen    our 
host's  own  rooms  though,  I  expect  ?" 
234 


HIS  HOUR 

"Why?"  asked  Tamara.  "But  can  they  pos- 
sibly be  worse  than  this?" 

"No,  that  is  just  it.  He  had  them  done  up  by 
one  of  your  English  firms,  and  they  are  beauti- 
fully comfortable  and  correct.  His  sitting-room 
is  full  of  books,  and  a  few  good  pictures,  and  leads 
into  his  bedroom  and  dressing-room;  and  as  for 
the  bathroom  it  is  as  perfect  as  any  the  best  Ameri- 
can plumber  could  invent!" 

Valonne  had  spent  years  at  Washington,  and  in 
England  too,  and  spoke  English  almost  as  a  native. 

"He  is  the  most  remarkable  contrast  of  wildness 
and  civilization  I  have  ever  met." 

"It  always  seems  to  me  as  though  he  were  trying 
to  crush  something — to  banish  something  in  him- 
self," said  Tamara.  "As  though  he  did  these  wild 
things  to  forget." 

"It  is  the  limitless  nature  warring  against  an 
impossible  bar.  If  he  were  an  Englishman  he 
would  soar  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  of  your  country, 
Madame,"  Valonne  said.  "You  have  not  perhaps 
talked  to  him  seriously;  he  is  extraordinarily  well 
read;  and  then  on  some  point  that  we  of  the  Occi- 
dent have  known  as  children,  he  will  be  completely 
16  235 


HIS  HOUR 

ignorant,  but  he  never  bores  one!    Nothing  he  does 
makes  one  feel  heavy  like  lead!" 

Tamara  looked  so  interested,  Valonne  went  on. 

"These  servants  down  here  absolutely  idolize 
him;  they  have  all  been  in  the  house  since  he  or 
they  were  born.  For  them  he  can  do  no  wrong. 
He  has  a  gymnasium,  and  he  keeps  two  or  three  of 
them  to  exercise  him,  and  wrestle  with  him,  and 
last  year  Basil,  the  second  one,  put  his  master's 
shoulder  out  of  joint,  and  then  tried  to  commit 
suicide  with  remorse.  You  can't,  until  you  have 
been  here  a  long  time,  understand  their  strange 
natures.  So  easily  moved  to  passion,  so  fierce  and 
barbaric,  and  yet  so  full  of  sentiment  and  fidelity. 
I  firmly  believe  if  he  were  to  order  them  to  set 
fire  to  us  all  in  our  beds  to-night,  they  would 
do  it  without  a  word!  He  is  their  personal  'Little 
Father.'  For  them  there  is  a  trinity  to  worship  and 
respect — the  Emperor,  God,  and  their  Master." 

Tamara  felt  extremely  moved.  A  passionate  wild 
regret  swept  over  her.  Oh!  why  might  not  fate  let 
him  love  her  really,  so  that  they  could  be  happy. 
How  she  would  adore  to  soothe  him,  and  be  tender 
and  gentle  and  obedient,  and  bring  him  peace! 
236 


HIS  HOUR 

But  just  at  that  moment,  with  an  air  of  exasper- 
ating insouciant  insolence,  he  came  into  the  room 
and  began  chaffing  with  Valonne,  and  turning  to 
her  said  something  which  set  her  wounded  pride 
again  all  aflame,  and  burning  with  impotence  and 
indignation  she,  as  the  strange  guest,  put  her  hand 
on  his  arm  to  go  in  to  dinner. 

Zacouska  was  partaken  of,  and  then  the  serious 
repast  began.  Every  one  was  hi  the  highest 
spirits.  Countess  Olga  and  Lord  Courtray  looked 
as  though  they  were  getting  on  with  giant  strides. 
Jack  had  got  to  the  whispering  stage,  which 
Tamara  knew  to  be  a  serious  one  with  him.  The 
whole  party  became  worked  up  to  a  point  of  extra 
gaiety.  On  her  other  hand  sat  Sonia's  husband, 
Prince  Solentzeff-Zasiekin.  But  Gritzko  sparkled 
with  brilliancy  and  seemed  to  lead  the  entire 
table. 

There  was  something  so  extremely  attractive 
about  him  in  his  character  of  host  that  Tamara 
felt  she  dared  hardly  look  at  him  or  she  could  not 
possibly  keep  up  this  cold  reserve  if  she  did! 

So  she  turned  and  talked,  and  apparently  listened, 
with  scarcely  a  pause  to  her  right-hand  neighbor's 
237 


HIS  HOUR 

endless  dissertations  upon  Moscow,  and  while  she 
answered  interestedly,  her  thoughts  grew  more  and 
more  full  of  rebellion  and  unrest. 

It  was  as  if  a  needle  had  an  independent  will, 
and  yet  was  being  drawn  by  a  magnet  against 
itself.  She  had  to  use  every  bit  of  her  force  to  keep 
her  head  turned  to  Prince  Solentzeff-Zasiekin,  and 
when  Gritzko  did  address  her,  only  to  answer  him 
in  monosyllables,  stiffly,  but  politely,  as  a  stranger 
.guest  should. 

By  the  end  of  dinner  he  was  again  wild  with  rage 
and  exasperation. 

When  they  got  back  to  the  great  saloon,  they 
found  the  end  of  it  had  been  cleared  and  a  semi- 
circle of  chairs  arranged  for  them  to  sit  in  and 
watch  some  performance.  It  proved  to  be  a  troupe 
>of  Russian  dancers  and  some  Cossacks  who  made 
a  remarkable  display  with  swords,  while  musi- 
cians, in  their  national  dress,  accompanied  the 
performance. 

Tamara  and  Lord  Courtray  had  seen  this  same 

sort  of  dancing  in  London  when  Russian  troupes 

gave  their  "turns,"  but  never  executed  with  such 

wonderful  fire  and  passion  as  this  they  witnessed 

238 


HIS  HOUR 

now.  The  feats  were  quite  extraordinary,  and 
one  or  two  of  the  women  were  attractive-looking 
creatures. 

Gritzko's  attitude  toward  them  was  that  of  the 
benevolent  master  to  highly  trained  valued  hounds. 
Indeed  this  feeling  seemed  to  be  mutual,  the  hounds 
adoring  their  master  with  blind  devotion,  as  all  his 
belongings  did. 

During  most  of  the  time  he  sat  behind  the 
Princess,  and  whispered  whatever  conversation  he 
had  in  her  ear;  but  every  now  and  then  he  would 
move  to  Princess  Sonia  or  Countess  Olga,  and 
lastly  subsided  close  to  Tamara,  and  bending  over 
leaned  on  the  back  of  her  chair. 

He  did  not  speak,  but  his  close  proximity  caused 
her  to  experience  the  exquisite  physical  thrill  she 
feared  and  dreaded.  When  her  heart  beat  like 
that,  and  her  body  tingled  with  sensation,  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  keep  her  head. 

His  fierceness  frightened  her,  but  when  he  was 
gentle,  she  knew  she  melted  at  once,  and  only 
longed  to  be  in  his  arms.  So  she  drew  herself  up 
and  shrank  forward  away  from  him,  and  began  an 
excited  conversation  with  Stephen  Strong. 
239 


HIS  HOUR 

Gritzko  got  up  abruptly  and  strode  back  to  the 
Princess.  And  soon  tables  and  supper  were  brought 
in,  and  there  was  a  general  move. 

Tamara  contrived  to  outwit  him  once  more  when 
he  came  up  to  speak.  It  was  the  only  way,  she 
felt.  No  half-measures  would  do  now.  She  loved 
him  too  much  to  be  able  to  unbend  an  inch  with 
safety.  Otherwise  it  would  be  all  over  with  her, 
and  she  could  not  resist. 

They  had  been  standing  alone  for  an  instant, 
and  he  said,  looking  passionately  into  her  eyes: 

"Tamara,  do  you  know  you  are  driving  me  crazy 
— do  you  think  it  wise  ?" 

"I  really  don't  care  whether  my  conduct  is  wise 
or  not,  Prince,"  she  replied.  "As  I  told  you,  to- 
night, and  from  now  onward,  I  shall  do  as  I 
please."  And  she  gathered  all  her  forces  together 
to  put  an  indifferent  look  on  her  face. 

"So  be  it  then,"  he  said,  and  turned  instantly 
away,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  time  never  addressed 
her  again. 

The  long  drive  in  the  cold  had  made  every  one 
sleepy,  and  contrary  to  their  usual  custom,  they 
were  all  ready  for  bed  soon  after  one  o'clock,  and 
240 


HIS  HOUR 

to  their  great  surprise  Gritzko  made  no  protest,  but 
let  the  ladies  quietly  go. 

Tamara's  last  thoughts  before  she  closed  her 
weary  eyes  were,  what  a  failure  it  all  had  been! 
She  had  succeeded  in  nothing.  She  loved  him 
madly,  and  she  was  going  back  home.  And  if  she 
had  made  him  suffer,  it  was  no  consolation!  She 
would  much  rather  have  been  happy  in  his  arms ! 

Meanwhile,  Gritzko  had  summoned  Ivan,  his 
major  domo,  and  the  substance  of  his  orders  to 
that  humble  slave  was  this.  That  early  on  the 
morrow  the  stove  was  to  be  lit  in  the  hut  by  the 
lake,  where  at  the  time  when  the  woodcock  came 
in  quantities  he  sometimes  spent  the  night  waiting 
for  the  dawn. 

"And  see  that  there  is  fodder  for  the  horses,"  he 
added.  "And  that  Ste"pan  drives  my  troika  with 
the  blacks,  and  let  the  brown  team  be  ready,  too, 
but  neither  of  these  to  come  round  until  the  grays 
have  gone.  And  in  the  hut  put  food — cold  food — 
and  some  brandy  and  champagne." 

The  servant  bowed  in  obedience  and  was  prepar- 
ing to  leave  the  room. 

"Oil  the  locks  and  put  the  key  in  my  overcoat 
241 


HIS  HOUR 

pocket,"  his  master  called  again.  And  then  he  lit 
another  cigarette  and  drawing  back  the  heavy 
curtains  looked  out  on  the  night. 

It  was  inky  black,  the  snow  had  not  yet  begun 
to  fall. 

All  promised  well. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


had  just  begun  to  dress  when 
her  godmother  came  into  her  room  next 
day. 

"There  is  going  to  be  a  terrible  snow  storm, 
dear,"  she  said.  "I  think  we  should  get'  down 
fairly  early  and  suggest  to  Gritzko  that  we  start 
back  to  Moscow  before  lunch.  It  is  no  joke  to  be 
caught  in  this  wild  country.  I  will  send  you  in 
Katia." 

Tamara's  maid  had  been  left  in  Petersburg,  and 
indeed  her  godmother's,  an  elderly  Russian  ac- 
customed to  these  excursions,  had  been  the  only  one 
brought. 

"I  won't  be  more  than  half  an  hour  dressing," 
she  said.  "  Don't  go  down  without  me,  Marraine." 

And  the  Princess  promised  and  returned  to  her 
room. 

"It  has  been  a  real  success,  our  little  outing,  has 
it  not?"  she  said,  when  later  they  were  descending 
the  stairs.  "Gritzko  has  been  so  quiet  and  nice. 
243 


HIS  HOUR 

I  am  so  happy,  dear  child,  that  you  can  go  away 
now  without  that  uncomfortable  feeling  of  quarrel- 
ing. There  was  one  moment  when  he  got  up  from 
behind  your  chair  last  night  I  feared  you  had 
angered  him  about  something,  but  afterward  he 
was  so  gentle  and  charming  when  we  talked  I 
felt  quite  reassured." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  feebly  responded  Tamara.  "  The 
party  has  been  positively  tame ! " 

They  found  their  host  had  gone  with  Jack  and 
the  rest  of  the  men  to  the  stables  to  inspect  his 
famous  teams.  But  Princess  Sonia  and  Countess 
Olga  were  already  down.  They  were  smoking 
lazily,  and  had  almost  suggested  a  double  dummy 
of  their  favorite  game. 

They  hailed  the  two  with  delight,  and  soon  the 
four  began  a  rubber,  and  Tamara,  who  hated  it, 
had  to  keep  the  whole  of  her  attention  to  try  and 
avoid  making  some  mistake. 

Thus  an  hour  past,  and  first  Stephen  Strong 
and  then  the  other  men  came  in. 

Jack  Courtray  was  enthusiastic  about  the  horses, 
and  indeed  the  whole  thing.  He  and  Gritzko 
had  arranged  to  go  on  a  bear-hunt  the  following 
244 


HIS  HOUR 

week,  and  everything  looked  cauleur  de  rose — 
except  the  sky,  that  continued  covered  with  an 
inky  palL 

The  Princess  beckoned  to  Gritzko  and  took 
him  aside.  She  explained  her  fears  about  the 
storm,  and  the  necessity  of  an  earlier  start,  to  which 
he  agreed. 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  let  us  take  Katia  with 
us,  we  have  only  the  one  maid,  and  must  have  her 
in  Moscow  when  we  arrive,"  she  said. 

So  thus  it  was  arranged.  The  Princess  and 
Stephen  Strong  and  Katia  were  to  start  first,  and 
Sonia  and  her  husband  would  take  both  Serge 
and  Valonne,  leaving  Gritzko  to  bring  Ta- 
mara,  Olga  and  Lord  Courtray  last. 

All  through  the  early  lunch,  which  was  now 
brought  in,  nothing  could  have  been  more  lamblike 
than  their  host.  He  exerted  himself  to  be  sweetly 
agreeable  to  every  one,  and  the  Princess,  generally 
so  alert,  felt  tranquil  and  content,  while  Tamara 
almost  experienced  a  sense  of  regret. 

Only   Count  Valonne,   if  he  had   been   asked, 
would  have  suggested — but  he  was  not  officious 
and  kept  his  ideas  to  himself. 
245 


HIS  HOUR 

The  snow  now  began  to  fall,  just  a  few  thin 
flakes,  but  it  made  them  hurry  their  departure. 

In  the  general  chatter  and  chaff  no  one  noticed 
that  Gritzko  had  never  once  spoken  directly  to 
Tamara,  but  she  was  conscious  of  it,  and  instead 
of  its  relieving  her,  she  felt  a  sudden  depression. 

"You  will  be  quite  safe  with  Olga  and  your 
friend,  dearest,"  the  Princess  whispered  to  her 
as  she  got  into  the  first  troika  which  came  round. 
"And  we  shall  be  only  just  in  front  of  you." 

So  they  waved  adieu. 

Then  Princess  Sonia's  party  started.  The  cold 
was  intense,  and  as  the  team  of  blacks  had  not  yet 
appeared,  the  host  suggested  the  two  ladies  should 
go  back  and  wait  in  the  saloon. 

"Don't  you  think  our  way  of  herding  in  parties 
here  is  quite  ridiculous,"  he  said  to  Jack,  when 
Olga  and  Tamara  were  gone.  "After  the  rest  get 
some  way  on,  I'll  have  round  the  brown  team  too. 
It  is  going  to  be  a  frightful  storm,  and  we  shall 
go  much  better  with  only  two  in  each  sleigh." 

Jack  was  entirely  of  his  opinion,  from  his  Eng- 
lish point  of  view,  a  party  of  four  made  two  of  them 
superfluous.  Countess  Olga  and  himself  were 
246 


HIS  HOUR 

quite  enough.  So  he  expressed  his  hearty  ap- 
proval of  this  arrangement,  and  presently  as  they 
smoked  on  the  steps,  the  three  brown  horses  trotted 
up. 

"I'll  go  and  fetch  Olga,"  Gritzko  said,  and  as 
luck  would  have  it  he  met  her  at  the  saloon  door. 

"I  had  forgotten  my  muff,"  she  said,  "and  had 
just  run  up  to  fetch  it." 

Then  he  explained  to  her  about  the  storm  and 
the  load,  and  since  it  was  a  question  of  duty  to  the 
poor  horses,  Countess  Olga  was  delighted  to  let 
pleasure  go  with  it  hand  in  hand.  And  she  allowed 
herself  to  be  settled  under  the  furs,  with  Jack, 
without  going  back  to  speak  to  Tamara.  Indeed, 
Gritzko  was  so  matter  of  fact  she  started  without 
a  qualm. 

"We  shall  overtake  you  in  ten  minutes,"  he 
said.  "The  blacks  are  much  the  faster  team." 
And  they  gaily  waved  as  they  disappeared  beyond 
the  bend  of  the  trees.  Then  he  spoke  to  his  faithful 
Ivan.  "In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  let  the  blacks 
come  round."  And  there  was  again  the  gleam 
of  a  panther  in  his  eyes  as  he  glanced  at  the  snow. 

All  this  while  Tamara,  seated  by  the  saloon  stove, 
247 


HIS  HOUR 

was  almost  growing  uneasy  at  being  left  so  long 
alone.  What  could  Olga  be  doing  to  stay  such  a 
time  ? 

Then  the  door  opened,  and  the  Prince  came  in. 

"We  must  start  now,"  he  said,  in  a  coldly  polite 
tone.  "The  storm  is  coming,  and  four  persons 
made  too  heavy  a  load;  so  Lord  Courtray  and 
Olga  have  gone  on." 

Tamara's  heart  gave  a  great  bound,  but  his 
face  expressed  nothing,  and  her  sudden  fear  calmed. 

He  was  ceremoniously  polite  as  he  helped  her  in. 
Nor  did  he  sit  too  near  her  or  change  his  manner 
one  atom  as  they  went  along.  He  hardly  spoke; 
indeed  they  both  had  to  crouch  down  in  the  furs  to 
shelter  from  the  blinding  snow.  And  if  Tamara 
had  not  been  so  preoccupied  with  keeping  her 
woollen  scarf  tight  over  her  head  she  would  have 
noticed  that  when  they  left  the  park  gate  they  turned 
to  the  right,  in  the  full  storm,  not  to  the  left,  where 
it  was  clearer  and  which  was  the  way  they  had  come. 

At  last  the  Prince  said  something  to  the  coachman 
in  Russian,  and  the  man  shook  his  head — the  going 
was  terribly  heavy.     They  seemed  to  be  making 
tracks  for  themselves  through  untrodden  snow. 
248 


HIS  HOUR 

"  Ste*pan  says  we  cannot  possibly  go  much  further, 
and  we  must  shelter  in  the  shooting  hut,"  Gritzko 
announced,  gravely;  and  again  Tamara  felt  a 
twinge  of  fear. 

"But  what  has  become  of  the  others?"  she 
asked.  "Why  do  we  not  see  their  tracks ?" 

"They  are  obliterated  in  five  minutes.  You 
do  not  understand  the  Russian  storm,"  he  said. 

Tamara's  heart  now  began  to  beat  again  rather 
wildly,  but  she  reasoned  with  herself;  she  was  no 
coward,  and  indeed  why  had  she  any  cause  for 
alarm?  No  one  could  be  more  aloof  than  her 
companion  seemed.  She  was  already  numb  with 
cold  too,  and  her  common  sense  told  her  sheltei 
of  any  sort  would  be  acceptable. 

They  had  turned  into  the  forest  by  now,  and 
the  road — if  road  it  could  be  called — was  rathei 
more  distinct. 

It  was  a  weird  scene.  The  great  giant  pine 
trees,  and  the  fine  falling  flakes  penetrating  through, 
the  quickly  vanishing  daylight,  and  the  mist  rising 
from  the  steaming  horses  as  they  galloped  along; 
while  Ste'pan  stood  there  urging  them  on  like  some 
northern  pirate  at  a  ship's  prow. 
249 


HIS  HOUR 

At  last  the  view  showed  the  white  frozen  lake, 
and  by  it  a  rough  log  hut.  They  came  upon  it 
suddenly,,  so  that  Tamara  could  only  realize  it 
was  not  large  and  rather  low,  when  they  drew  up 
at  the  porch. 

At  the  time  she  was  too  frozen  and  miserable  to 
notice  that  the  Prince  unlocked  the  door,  but 
afterward  she  remembered  she  should  have  been 
struck  by  the  strangeness  of  his  having  a  key. 

He  helped  her  out,  and  she  almost  fell  she  was 
so  stiff  with  cold,  and  then  she  found  herself, 
after  passing  through  a  little  passage,  in  a  warm, 
large  room.  It  had  a  stove  at  one  end,  and  the 
walls,  distempered  green,  had  antlers  hung  round. 
There  was  one  plain  oak  table  and  a  bench  behind 
it,  a  couple  of  wooden  arm-chairs,  a  corner  cup- 
board, and  an  immense  couch  with  leather  cush- 
ions, which  evidently  did  for  a  bed,  and  on  the 
floor  were  several  wolf  skins. 

The  Prince  made  no  explanation  as  to  why 
there  was  a  fire,  he  just  helped  her  off  with  her 
furs  without  a  word;  he  hung  them  up  on  a  peg 
and  then  divested  himself  of  his  own. 

He  wore  the  brown  coat  to-day,  and  was  hand- 
250 


HIS  HOUR 

some  as  a  god.  Then,  after  he  had  examined  the 
stove  and  looked  from  the  window,  he  quietly 
left  the  room. 

The  contrast  of  the  heat  after  the  intense  cold 
without  made  a  tingling  and  singing  in  Tamara's 
ears.  She  was  not  sure,  but  thought  she  heard 
the  key  turn  in  the  lock.  She  started  to  her,  feet 
from  the  chair  where  she  sat  and  rushed  to  try  the 
door,  and  this  time  her  heart  again  gave  a  terrible 
bound,  and  she  stood  sick  with  apprehension. 

The  door  was  fastened  from  without. 

For  a  few  awful  moments  which  seemed  an 
eternity,  she  was  conscious  of  nothing  but  an 
agonized  terror.  She  could  not  reason  or  decide 
how  to  act.  And  then  her  fine  courage  came  back, 
and  she  grew  more  calm. 

She  turned  to  the  window,  but  that  was  double, 
and  tightly  shut  and  fastened  up.  There  was  no 
other  exit,  only  this  one  door.  Finding  escape 
hopeless,  she  sat  down  and  waited  the  turn  of 
events.  Perhaps  he  only  meant  to  frighten  her, 
perhaps  there  was  some  reason  why  the  door  must 
be  barred;  perhaps  there  were  bears  in  this  terribly 
lonely  place. 

17  251 


HIS  HOUR 

She  sat  there  reasoning  with  herself  and  con- 
trolling her  nerves  for  moments  which  appeared 
like  hours,  and  then  she  heard  footsteps  in  the 
passage,  breaking  the  awful  silence,  and  the  door 
opened,  and  Gritzko  strode  into  the  room. 

He  locked  it  after  him,  and  pocketed  the  key; 
then  he  faced  her.  What  she  saw  in  his  passionate 
eyes  turned  her  lips  gray  with  fear. 

And  now  everything  of  that  subtle  thing  in 
womankind  which  resists  capture,  came  upper- 
most in  Tamara's  spirit.  She  loved  him — but 
even  so  she  would  not  be  taken. 

She  stood  holding  on  to  the  rough  oak  table 
like  a  deer  at  bay,  her  face  deadly  white,  and  her 
eyes  wide  and  staring. 

Then  stealthily  the  Prince  drew  nearer,  and 
with  a  spring  seized  her  and  clasped  her  in  his 
arms. 

"Now,  now,  you  shall  belong  to  me,"  he  cried. 
"You  are  mine  at  last,  and  you  shall  pay  for  the 
hours  of  pain  you  have  made  me  suffer!"  and  he 
rained  mad  kisses  on  her  trembling  lips. 

A  ghastly  terror  shook  Tamara.  This  man 
whom  she  loved,  to  whom  in  happier  circumstances 
252 


HIS  HOUR 

she  might  have  ceded  all  that  he  asked,  now  only 
filled  her  with  frantic  fear.  But  she  would  not 
give  in,  she  would  rather  die  than  be  conquered. 

"Gritzko — oh,  Gritzko!  please — please  don't!" 
she  cried,  almost  suffocated. 

But  she  knew  as  she  looked  at  him  that  he  was 
beyond  all  hearing. 

His  splendid  eyes  blazed  with  the  passion  of  a 
wild  beast.  She  knew  if  she  resisted  him  he  would 
kill  her.  Well,  better  death  than  this  hideous 
disgrace. 

He  held  her  from  him  for  a  second,  and  then 
lifted  her  in  his  arms. 

But  with  the  strength  of  terrified  madness  she 
grasped  his  wounded  arm,  and  in  the  second  in 
which  he  made  a  sudden  wince,  she  gave  an  eel- 
like  twist  and  slipped  from  his  grasp,  and  as  she 
did  so  she  seized  the  pistol  in  his  belt  and  stood 
erect  while  she  placed  the  muzzle  to  her  own 
white  forehead. 

"Touch  me  again,  and  I  will  shoot!"  she  gasped, 
and  sank  down  on  the  bench  almost  exhausted 
behind  the  rough  wooden  table. 

He  made  a  step  forward,  but  she  lifted  the 
253 


HIS  HOUR 

pistol  again  to  her  head  and  leant  her  arm  on 
the  board  to  steady  herself.  And  thus  they  glared 
at  one  another,  the  hunter  and  the  hunted. 

"This  is  very  clever  of  you,  Madame,"  he  said; 
"but  do  you  think  it  will  avail  you  anything? 
You  can  sit  like  that  all  night,  if  you  wish,  but 
before  dawn  I  will  take  you." 

Tamara  did  not  answer. 

Then  he  flung  himself  on  the  couch  and  lit  a 
cigarette,  and  all  that  was  savage  and  cruel  in  him 
flamed  from  his  eyes. 

"My  God!  what  do  you  think  it  has  been  like 
since  the  beginning?"  he  said.  "Your  silly  prud- 
ish fears  and  airs.  And  still  I  loved  you — madly 
loved  you.  And  since  the  night  when  I  kissed 
your  sweet  lips  you  have  made  me  go  through 
hell — cold  and  provoking  and  disdainful,  and  last 
night  when  you  defied  me,  then  I  determined 
you  should  belong  to  me  by  force;  and  now  it  is 
only  a  question  of  time.  No  power  in  heaven  or 
earth  can  save  you — Ah!  if  you  had  been  different, 
how  happy  we  might  have  been!  But  it  is  too 
late;  the  devil  has  won,  and  soon  I  will  do  what 
I  please." 

254 


HIS  HOUR 

Tamara  never  stirred,  and  the  strain  of  keeping 
the  pistol  to  her  head  made  her  wrist  ache. 

For  a  long  time  there  was  silence,  and  the  great 
heat  caused  a  mist  to  swim  before  her  eyes,  and 
an  overpowering  drowsiness — Oh,  heaven! — if  un- 
consciousness should  come  upon  her! 

Then  the  daylight  faded  quite,  and  the  Prince 
got  up  and  lit  a  small  oil  lamp  and  set  it  on  the 
shelf.  He  opened  the  stove  and  let  the  glow 
from  the  door  flood  through  the  room. 

Then  he  sat  down  again. 

A  benumbing  agony  crept  over  Tamara;  her 
brain  grew  confused  in  the  hot,  airless  room. 
It  seemed  as  if  everything  swam  round  her.  All 
she  saw  clearly  were  Gritzko's  eyes. 

There  was  a  deathly  silence,  but  for  an  occasional 
moan  of  the  wind  in  the  pine  trees.  The  drift  of 
snow  without  showed  white  as  it  gradually  blocked 
the  window. 

Were  they  buried  here — under  the  snow?  Ah! 
she  must  fight  against  this  horrible  lethargy. 

It  was  a  strange  picture.  The  rough  hut  room 
with  its  skins  and  antlers;  the  fair,  civilized  woman, 
delicate  and  dainty  in  her  soft  silk  blouse,  sitting 
255 


HIS  HOUR 

there  with  the  grim  Cossack  pistol  at  her  head — 
and  opposite  her,  still  as  marble,  the  conquering 
savage  man,  handsome  and  splendid  in  his  picture- 
esque  uniform;  and  just  the  dull  glow  of  the  stove 
and  the  one  oil  lamp,  and  outside  the  moaning 
wind  and  the  snow. 

Presently  Tamara's  elbow  slipped  and  the  pistol 
jerked  forward.  In  a  second  the  Prince  had  sprung 
into  an  alert  position,  but  she  straightened  her- 
self, and  put  it  back  in  its  place,  and  he  relaxed  the 
tension,  and  once  more  reclined  on  the  couch. 

And  now  there  floated  through  Tamara's  con- 
fused brain  the  thought  that  perhaps  it  would  be 
better  to  shoot  in  any  case — shoot  and  have  done 
with  it.  But  the  instinct  of  her  youth  stopped  her 
— suicide  was  a  sin,  and  while  she  did  not  reason, 
the  habit  of  this  belief  kept  its  hold  upon  her. 

So  an  hour  passed  in  silence,  then  the  agonizing 
certainty  came  upon  her  that  there  must  be  an 
end.  Her  arm  had  grown  numb. 

Strange  lights  seemed  to  flash  before  her  eyes — 
Yes, — surely — that  was  Gritzko  coming  toward 
her—! 

She  gave  a  gasping  cry  and  tried  to  pull  the 
256 


HIS  HOUR 

trigger,  but  it  was  stiff,  her  fingers  had  gone  to 
sleep  and  refused  to  obey  her.  The  pistol  dropped 
from  her  nerveless  grasp. 

So  this  was  the  end!     He  would  win. 

She  gave  one  moan — and  fell  forward  uncon- 
scious upon  the  table. 

With  a  bound  Gritzko  leaped  up,  and  seizing  her 
in  his  arms  carried  her  into  the  middle  of  the  room. 
Then  he  paused  a  moment  to  exult  in  his  triumph. 

Her  little  head,  with  its  soft  brown  hair  from 
which  the  fur  cap  had  fallen,  lay  helpless  on  his 
breast.  The  pathetic  white  face,  with  its  childish 
curves  and  long  eyelashes,  resting  on  her  cheek, 
made  no  movement.  The  faint,  sweet  scent  of  a 
great  bunch  of  violets  crushed  in  her  belt  came  up 
to  him. 

And  as  he  fiercely  bent  to  kiss  her  white,  uncon- 
scious lips,  suddenly  he  drew  back  and  all  the 
savage  exultation  went  out  of  him. 

He  gazed  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  carried 
her  tenderly  to  the  couch  and  laid  her  down.  She 
never  stirred.  Was  she  dead?  Oh,  God! 

In  frightful  anguish  he  put  his  ear  to  her  heart; 
it  did  not  seem  to  beat. 

257 


HIS  HOUR 

In  wild  fear  he  tore  open  her  blouse  and  wrenched 
apart  her  fine  underclothing,  the  better  to  listen. 
Yes,  now  through  only  the  bare  soft  skin  he  heard 
a  faint  sound.  Ah!  saints  in  heaven!  she  was  not 
dead. 

Then  he  took  off  her  boots  and  rubbed  her  cold 
little  silk-stockinged  feet,  and  her  cold  damp  hands, 
and  presently  as  he  watched,  it  seemed  as  if  some 
color  came  back  to  her  cheeks,  and  at  last  she  gave 
a  sigh  and  moved  her  head  without  opening  her 
eyes — and  then  he  saw  that  she  was  not  uncon- 
scious now,  but  sleeping. 

Then  the  bounds  of  all  his  mad  passion  burst, 
and  as  he  knelt  beside  the  couch,  great  tears  suf- 
fused his  eyes  and  trickled  down  his  cheeks. 

"  My  Doushka !  my  love !"  he  whispered,  brokenly. 
*'Oh,  God!  and  I  would  have  hurt  you!" 

He  rose  quickly,  and  going  to  the  window  opened 
the  ventilator  at  the  top,  picked  up  the  pistol  from 
the  table  and  replaced  it  in  his  belt,  and  then  he 
knelt  once  more  beside  Tamara,  and  with  deepest 
reverence  bent  down  and  kissed  her  feet. 

"Sleep,  sleep,  my  sweet  Princess,"  he  said  softly, 
and  then  crept  stealthily  from  the  room. 
258 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

E  light  was  gray  when  Tamara  awoke, 
though  the  lamp  still  burned — more 
than  three  parts  of  the  window  was 
darkened  by  snow — only  a  peep  of  daylight 
flickered  in  at  the  top. 

Where  was  she!  What  had  happened?  £>ome~ 
thing  ghastly — but  what  P 

Then  she  perceived  her  torn  blouse,  and  with  a 
terrible  pang  remembrance  came  back  to  her. 

She  started  up,  and  as  she  did  so  realized  she 
was  only  in  her  stockinged  feet. 

For  a  moment  she  staggered  a  little  and  then  fell 
back  on  the  couch. 

The  awful  certainty — or  so  it  seemed  to  her — of 
what  had  occurred  came  upon  her,  Gritzko  had 
won — she  was  utterly  disgraced. 

The  whole  training  of  her  youth  thundered  at 
her.  Of  all  sins,  none  had  been  thought  so  great 
as  this  which  had  happened  to  her. 

She  was  an  outcast.  She  was  no  better  than 
259 


HIS  HOUR 

poor  Mary  Gibson  whom  Aunt  Clara  had  with 
harshness  turned  from  her  house. 

She — a-  lady! — a  proud  English  lady!  She 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  What  had  her 
anguish  of  mind  been  before,  when  compared  with 
this!  She  had  suffered  hurt  to  her  pride  the  day 
after  he  had  kissed  her,  but  now  that  seemed  as 
nothing  balanced  with  such  hideous  disgrace. 

She  moaned  and  rocked  herself  to  and  fro.  Wild 
thoughts  came — where  was  the  pistol?  She  would 
end  her  life. 

She  looked  everywhere,  but  it  was  gone. 

Presently  she  crouched  down  in  a  corner  like  a 
cowed  dog,  too  utterly  overcome  with  shame  and 
despair  to  move. 

And  there  she  still  was  when  Gritzko  entered 
the  room. 

She  looked  up  at  him  piteously,  and  with  uncon- 
scious instinct  tried  to  pull  together  her  torn  blouse. 

In  a  flash  he  saw  what  she  thought,  and  one  of 
those  strange  shades  in  his  character  made  him 
come  to  a  resolve.  Not  until  she  should  lie  willingly 
in  his  arms — herself  given  by  love — should  he  tell 
her  her  belief  was  false. 

260 


HIS  HOUR 

He  advanced  up  the  room  with  a  grave  quiet 
face.  His  expression  was  inscrutable.  She  could 
read  nothing  from  his  look.  Her  sick  imagination 
told  her  he  was  thus  serene  because  he  had  won, 
and  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  while  her 
cheeks  flamed,  and  she  sobbed. 

Her  weeping  hurt  him — he  nearly  relented — but 
as  he  came  near  she  looked  up. 

No!  Not  in  this  mood  would  he  win  her!  and 
his  resolve  held. 

She  did  not  make  him  any  reproaches;  she  just 
sat  there,  a  crumpled,  pitiful  figure  in  a  corner  on 
the  floor. 

"The  snowstorm  is  over,"  he  said  in  a  restrained 
voice;  "we  can  get  on  now.  Some  of  my  Moujiks 
got  here  this  morning,  and  I  have  been  able  to 
send  word  to  the  Princess  that  she  should  not  be 
alarmed." 

Then,  as  Tamara  did  not  move,  he  put  out  his 
hand  and  helped  her  up.  She  shuddered  when  he 
touched  her,  and  her  tears  burst  out  afresh.  Where 
was  all  her  pride  gone — it  lay  trampled  in  the  dust. 

"You  are  tired  and  hungry,  Madame,"  he  said, 
"and   here   is   a  looking-glass   and   a  comb   and 
261 


HIS  HOUR 

brush,"  and  he  opened  a  door  of  the  tall  cupboard 
which  filled  the  corner  opposite  the  stove,  and  took 
the  things  ,out  for  her.  "Perhaps  you  might  like 
to  arrange  yourself  while  I  bring  you  some  food." 

"How  can  I  face  the  others, — with  this  blouse f 
she  exclaimed  miserably,  and  then  her  cheeks 
crimsoned  again,  and  she  looked  down. 

He  did  not  make  any  explanation  of  how  it  had 
got  torn — the  moment  was  a  wonderful  one  be- 
tween them. 

Over  Tamara  crept  some  strange  emotion,  and 
he  walked  to  the  door  quickly  to  prevent  himself 
from  clasping  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissing  away 
her  fears. 

When  she  was  alone  the  cunning  of  all  Eve's 
daughters  filled  her.  Above  all  things  she  must 
now  use  her  ingenuity  to  efface  these  startling 
proofs.  She  darted  to  the  cupboard  and  searched 
among  the  things  there,  and  eventually  found  a 
rough  housewife,  and  chose  out  a  needle  and 
coarse  thread.  It  was  better  than  nothing,  so  she 
hurriedly  drew  off  the  blouse,  then  she  saw  her 
torn  underthings — and  another  convulsive  pang 
went  through  her — but  she  set  to  work.  She 
262 


HIS  HOUR 

knew  that  however  she  might  make  even  the 
blouse  look  to  the  casual  eyes  of  her  godmother, 
she  could  never  deceive  her  maid.  Then  the 
thought  came  that  fortunately  Johnson  was  in 
Petersburg,  and  all  these  things  could  be  left 
behind  at  Moscow.  Yes,  no  one  need  ever  know. 

With  feverish  haste  she  cobbled  up  the  holes, 
glancing  nervously  every  few  moments  to  the  door 
in  case  Gritzko  should  come  in.  Then  she  put  the 
garment  on  again — refastened  her  brooch  and 
brushed  and  recoiled  her  hair.  What  she  saw  in 
the  small  looking-glass  helped  to  restore  her  nerve. 
Except  that  her  eyes  were  red,  and  she  was  very 
pale,  she  was  tidy  and  properly  clothed. 

She  sat  down  by  the  table  and  tried  to  think. 
These  outside  things  could  still  look  right,  but 
nothing  could  restore  her  untarnished  pride. 

How  could  she  ever  take  her  blameless  place  in 
the  world  again. 

Once  more  it  hurt  Gritzko  terribly  to  see  the 
woebegone,  humbled,  hopeless  look  on  her  face 
as  he  came  in  and  put  some  food  on  the  table. 
He  cut  up  some  tempting  bits  and  put  them  on 
her  plate,  while  he  told  her  she  must  eat — and  she 
263 


HIS  HOUR 

obeyed  mechanically.  Then  he  poured  out  a 
tumbler  of  champagne  and  made  her  drink  it 
down.  It  revived  her,  and  she  said  she  was  ready 
to  start.  But  as  she  stood  he  noticed  that  all  her 
proud  carriage  of  head  was  gone. 

"My  God!  what  should  I  feel  like  now?"  he 
said  to  himself,  "if  it  were  really  true!'* 

He  wrapped  her  in  her  furs  with  cold  politeness, 
his  manner  had  resumed  the  stiffness  of  their 
yesterday's  drive. 

Suddenly  she  felt  it  was  not  possible  there  could 
be  this  frightful  secret  between  them.  It  must 
surely  be  all  a  dreadful  dream. 

She  began  to  speak,  and  he  waited  gravely  for 
what  she  would  say;  but  the  words  froze  on  her 
lips  when  she  saw  the  pistol  in  his  belt — that 
brought  back  the  reality.  She  shuddered  con- 
vulsively and  clenched  her  hands.  He  put  on  his 
furs  quietly  and  then  opened  the  door. 

He  lifted  her  into  the  troika  which  was  waiting 
outside.  Stefan's  face,  as  he  stood  holding  the 
reins,  was  as  stolid  as  though  nothing  unusual  had 
occurred. 

So  they  started 

264 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  told  the  messenger  to  tell  Tantine  that  we 
were  caught  in  the  snow,"  he  said,  "and  had  to 
take  shelter  at  the  farm. — There  is  a  farm  a  verst 
to  the  right  after  one  passes  the  forest.  It  contains 
a  comfortable  farmer's  wife  and  large  family,  and 
though  you  found  it  too  confoundedly  warm  in 
their  kitchen  you  passed  a  possible  night. 

"Very  well,"  said  Tamara  with  grim  meekness. 

Then  there  was  silence. 

Her  thoughts  became  a  little  confused  with 
the  intense  cold  and  the  effect  of  the  champagne, 
and  once  or  twice  she  dozed  off;  and  when  he  saw 
this  he  drew  her  close  to  him  and  let  her  sleep  with 
her  head  against  his  arm,  while  he  wrapped  the 
furs  round  her  so  that  she  felt  no  cold.  Then  he 
kept  watch  over  her  tenderly,  fondest  love  in  his 
eyes.  She  would  wake  sometimes  with  a  start  and 
draw  herself  away,  but  soon  fell  off  again,  and  in 
this  fashion,  neither  speaking,  the  hours  passed  and 
they  gradually  drew  near  Moscow. 

Then  she  woke  completely  with  a  shudder  and 
sat  up  straight,  and  so  they  came  to  the  hotel  and 
found  the  Princess  and  the  others  anxiously  waiting 
for  them. 

265 


HIS  HOUR 

"What  an  unfortunate  contretemps,  Tamara, 
dear  child,"  her  godmother  said,  "that  wicked 
storm!  We  only  just  arrived  safely,  and  poor 
Olga  and  your  friend  fared  no  better  than  you! 
Imagine!  they,  too,  had  to  take  shelter  in  that 
second  village  in  a  most  horrible  hovel,  which  they 
shared  with  the  cows.  It  has  been  too  miserable 
for  you  all  four  I  am  afraid." 

But  Gritzko  was  obliged  to  turn  quickly  away 
to  hide  the  irrepressible  smile  in  his  eyes — really, 
sometimes,  fate  seemed  very  kind. 

So  there  was  no  scandal,  only  commiseration, 
and  both  Countess  Olga  and  Tamara  were  petted 
and  spoilt — while,  if  there  was  a  roguish  note  in 
Valonne's  sympathetic  condolences,  none  of  them 
appeared  to  notice  it. 

However,  no  petting  seemed  to  revive 
Tamara. 

"You  have  caught  a  thorough  chill,  I  fear,  dear- 
est," the  Princess  said;  and  as  they  had  missed  their 
sleeping  berths  engaged  for  the  night  before,  and 
were  unable  to  get  accommodation  on  the  train  again 
for  the  night,  they  were  forced  to  remain  in  Moscow 
until  the  next  day,  so  the  Princess  insisted  upon 
266 


HIS  HOUR 

her  godchild  going  immediately  to  bed,  while  the 
rest  of  the  party  settled  down  to  bridge. 

"It  is  a  jolly  thing,  a  snowstorm!"  Lord  Court- 
ray  said  to  Gritzko.  "Isn't  it?  Ton  my  soul  I 
have  never  enjoyed  the  smell  of  cows  and  hay  so 
much  in  my  life ! " 

But  upstairs  in  the  stiff  hotel  bedroom  Tamara 
sobbed  herself  to  sleep. 


18 


CHAPTER  XIX 

E  journey  back  to  Petersburg  passed  in 
a  numb,  hopeless  dream  for  Tamara. 
She  did  her  best  to  be  natural  and  gay, 
but  her  white  face,  pinched  and  drawn,  caused 
her  godmother  to  feel  anxious  about  her. 

Gritzko  had  bidden  them  good-bye  at  the  train — 
he  was  going  back  to  Milasldv  to  arrange  for  his 
and  Jack's  bear-hunt — and  would  not  be  in  the 
capital  for  two  more  days.  That  would  be  the 
Tuesday,  and  Tamara  was  to  leave  on  Wednesday 
evening  by  the  Nord  Express. 

He  had  kissed  her  hand  with  respectful  reverence 
as  he  said  farewell,  and  the  last  she  saw  of  him 
was  standing  there  in  his  gray  overcoat  and  high 
fur  collar,  a  light  in  his  eyes  as  they  peered  from 
beneath  his  Astrakhan  cap. 

The  Princess  sent  for  the  doctor  next  day — they 
arrived  late  at  night  at  the  Ardacheff  house. 

"Your  friend  has  got  a  chill,  and  seems  to  have 


HIS  HOUR 

had  a  severe  shock,"  he  said  when  he  came  from 
Tamara's  room.  "Make  her  rest  in  bed  to-day, 
and  then  distract  her  with  cheerful  society." 

And  the  Princess  pondered  as  she  sat  in  the 
blue  salon  alone.  A  shock — what  had  happened  ? 
Could  fear  of  the  storm  have  caused  a  shock? 
She  felt  very  worried. 

And  poor  Tamara  lay  limp  in  her  bed;  but  every 
now  and  then  she  would  clench  her  hands  in  anguish 
as  some  fresh  aspect  of  things  struck  her.  The 
most  ghastly  moment  of  all  came  when  she  remem- 
bered the  eventual  fate  of  Mary  Gibson. 

What  if  she  also  should  have 

"No!  Oh,  no!"  she  unconsciously  screamed 
aloud;  and  her  godmother,  coming  into  the  room, 
was  really  alarmed. 

From  this  moment  onward  the  horror  of  this 
thought  took  root  in  her  brain,  and  she  knew  no 
peace.  But  her  will  and  her  breeding  came  to 
her  rescue.  She  would  not  lie  there  like  an  invalid; 
she  would  get  up  and  dress  and  go  down  to  tea. 
She  would  chaff  with  the  others  who  would  all 
swarm  to  see  her.  No  one  should  pity  or  speculate 
about  her.  And  she  made  Johnson  garb  her  in 
269 


HIS  HOUR 

her  loveliest  tea-gown,  and  then  she  went  to  the 
blue  salon. 

And  amidst  the  laughter  and  fun  they  had  talking 
of  their  adventure,  no  one  but  Stephen  Strong 
remarked  the  feverish  unrest  in  her  eyes,  or  the 
bright,  hectic  flush  in  her  cheeks. 

When  night  came  and  she  was  alone  again,  her 
thoughts  made  a  hell;  she  could  not  sleep;  she 
paced  her  room.  If  Gritzko  should  not  return  on 
Tuesday.  If  she  should  never  see  him  again. 
What — what  would  happen — if — she — too — like 
poor  Mary  Gibson 

Next  day — the  Tuesday — at  about  eleven  o'clock, 
a  servant  in  the  MilaslaVski  livery  arrived  with  a 
letter,  a  stiff-looking,  large,  sealed  letter.  She  had 
never  seen  Gritzko's  writing  before  and  she  looked 
at  it  critically  as  she  tremblingly  broke  it  open. 

It  was  written  from  MilaslaV  the  day  they  had 
left  Moscow.  It  was  short  and  to  the  point,  and 
her  eyes  dilated  as  she  read. 

It  began  thus: 

"To  MADAME  LORAINE,- 

"MADAME, — I   write   to    ask   you   graciously 
to  accord  me  the   honor   of   your   hand.     If  you 
270 


HIS  HOUR 

will  grant  me  this  favor  I  will  endeavor  to  make 

you  happy. 

"I  have  the  honor,  Madame,  to  remain, 
"Your  humble  and  devoted  serviteur, 

"GREGOIR*  MILASLAVSKI." 

And  as  once  before  in  her  life  Tamara's  knees 
gave  way  under  her,  and  she  sat  down  hurriedly 
on  the  bed — all  power  of  thought  had  left  her. 

"The  messenger  waits,  ma'am,"  her  maid  said, 
stolidly,  from  the  door. 

Then  she  pulled  herself  together  and  went  to 
the  writing-table.  Her  hand  trembled,  but  she 
steadied  it,  and  wrote  her  answer 

"To  PRINCE  MILASLAVSKI, — 

"  MONSIEUR, — I  have  no  choice.     I  consent 
"Yours  truly, 

"TAMARA  LORAINE." 

And  she  folded  it,  and  placing  it  in  the  envelope, 
she  sealed  it  with  her  own  little  monogram  seal, 
in  tender  blue  wax,  and  handed  it  to  her  maid,  who 
left  the  room. 

Then  she  stared  in  front  of  her — her  arms  crossed 

*  "  Gritzko  "  is  the  diminutive  of  Gregoir. 

271 


HIS  HOUR 

on  the  table — but  she  could  not  have  analyzed  the 
emotions  which  were  flooding  her  being. 

Her  godmother  found  her  there  still  as  an  image 
when  presently  she  came  to  ask  after  her  health. 

"Tamara!  dearest  child.  You  worry  me  dread- 
fully. Confide  in  me,  little  one.  Tell  me  what 
has  happened?"  and  she  placed  her  kind  arms 
around  her  goddaughter's  shoulders  and  caressed 
and  comforted  her. 

Tamara  shivered,  and  then  stood  up.  "I  am 
going  to  marry  Gritzko,  Marraine,"  she  said.  "I 
have  just  sent  him  my  answer." 

And  the  Princess  had  too  much  tact  to  do  more 
than  embrace  her,  and  express  her  joy,  and  give 
her  her  blessing.  All  as  if  the  news  contained  no 
flaw,  and  had  come  in  the  most  delightful  manner. 

Then  she  left  her  alone  in  her  room. 

Yes,  this  was  the  only  thing  to  be  done,  and 
the  sooner  the  ceremony  should  be  over  the  better. 
Lent  would  come  on  in  a  few  short  weeks;  that 
would  be  the  excuse  to  hasten  matters,  and  this 
idea  was  all  Tamara  was  conscious  of  as  she 
finished  dressing. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  with  formal  ceremony,  Prince 
272 


HIS  HOUR 

Milasldvski  sent  to  ask  if  the  Princess  Ardacheff 
could  receive  him — and  soon  after  he  was  shown 
up  into  the  first  salon,  where  the  hostess  awaited 
him. 

He  was  dressed  in  his  blue  and  scarlet  uniform, 
and  was  groomed  with  even  extra  care,  she  noticed, 
as  he  advanced  with  none  of  his  habitual  easy 
familiarity  to  greet  her. 

"I  come  to  ask  your  consent  to  my  marriage 
with  your  goddaughter,  Tantine,"  he  said,  with 
grave  courtesy,  as  he  kissed  her  hand.  "She  has 
graciously  promised  to  become  my  wife,  and  I 
have  only  to  secure  your  consent  to  complete  my 
felicity." 

"Gritzko!  my  dear  boy!"  was  all  the  Princess 
could  murmur.  "If — if — you  are  sure  it  is  for  the 
happiness  of  you  both  nothing  of  course  could 
give  me  greater  joy;  but — " 

"It  will  be  for  our  happiness,"  he  answered, 
letting  the  hinted  doubt  pass. 

Then  his  ceremonious  manner  melted  a  little, 
and  he  again  kissed  his  old  friend's  hand.  "  Dear 
Tantine,  have  no  fears.  I  promise  you  it  shall  be 
for  our  happiness." 

273 


HIS  HOUR 

The  Princess  was  deeply  moved.  She  knew 
there  must  be  something  underneath  all  this,  but 
she  was  accustomed  to  believe  Gritzko  blindly, 
and  she  felt  that  if  he  gave  his  word,  things  must 
be  right.  She  would  ask  no  questions. 

"Will  you  go  and  fetch  my  fiancee  like  the  dar- 
ling you  are,"  he  said  presently,  "I  want  you  to 
give  her  to  me." 

And  the  Princess,  quite  overcome  with  emotion, 
left  the  room. 

It  was  not  like  a  triumphant  prospective  Princess 
and  bride  that  Tamara  followed  her  godmother, 
when  they  returned  together.  She  looked  a  slender 
drooping  girl,  in  a  clinging  dove-colored  gown,  and 
she  hardly  raised  her  eyes  from  the  carpet.  Her 
trembling  hand  was  cold  as  death  when  the  Princess 
took  it  and  placed  it  in  Gritzko's,  and  as  they 
stood  receiving  her  blessing  she  kissed  them  both, 
and  then  hurriedly  made  her  exit. 

When  they  were  alone  Tamara  remained  limp 
and  still,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  It  was  he 
who  broke  the  silence — as  he  took  her  left  hand, 
and  touched  it  with  his  lips. 

He  drew  from  her  finger  her  wedding  ring  and 
274 


HIS  HOUR 

carelessly  put  it  on  a  table — while  he  still  held 
her  hand — then  he  placed  his  gift  in  the  wedding 
ring's  place,  a  glittering  thing  of  an  immense 
diamond  and  ruby. 

Tamara  shivered.  She  looked  down  at  her 
hand,  it  seemed  as  if  all  safe  and  solid  things  were 
slipping  from  her  with  the  removal  of  that  plain 
gold  band.  She  made  no  remark  as  to  the  beauty 
of  the  token  of  her  engagement,  she  did  not  thank 
him,  she  remained  inert  and  nerveless. 

"I  thank  you,  Madame,  for  your  consent," 
he  said  stiffly,  "I  will  try  to  make  you  not  regret 
it."  He  used  no  word  of  love,  nor  did  he  attempt 
any  caresses,  although  if  she  had  looked  up  she 
would  have  seen  the  passionate  tenderness  brim- 
ming in  his  eyes,  which  he  could  not  conceal.  But 
she  did  not  raise  her  head,  and  it  all  seemed  to  her 
part  of  the  same  thing — he  knew  he  had  sinned 
against  her,  and  was  making  the  only  reparation  a 
gentleman  could  offer. 

And  even  now  with  her  hand  in  his,  and  the 

knowledge  that  soon  she  would  be  his  Princess, 

there  was  no  triumph  or  joy,  only  the  sick  sense 

of   humiliation   she  felt.     Passion,   and  its  result 

275 


HIS  HOUR 

— necessity — not  love,  had  brought  about  this 
situation. 

So  she  stood  there  in  silence.  It  required  the 
whole  force  of  Gritzko's  will  to  prevent  him  from 
folding  her  shrinking  pitiful  figure  in  his  strong 
arms,  and  raining  down  kisses  and  love  words 
upon  her.  But  the  stubborn  twist  in  his  nature 
retained  its  hold.  No,  that  glorious  moment  should 
come  with  a  blaze  of  sunlight  when  all  was  won, 
when  he  had  made  her  love  him  in  spite  of 
everything. 

Meanwhile  nothing  but  reserved  homage,  and  a 
settling  of  details. 

"You  will  let  the  marriage  take  place  before 
Lent,  won't  you  ?"  he  said,  dropping  her  hand. 

And  Tamara  answered  dully. 

"I  will  marry  you  as  soon  as  you  wish,"  and 
she  turned  and  sat  down. 

He  leant  on  the  mantlepiece  and  looked  at  her. 
He  understood  perfectly  the  reason  which  made 
her  consent  to  any  date — and  he  smiled  with  some 
strange  powerful  emotion — and  yet  his  eye  had  a 
whimsical  gleam. 

"You  are  afraid  that  something  can  happen 
276 


HIS  HOUR 

isn't  it?"  he  said.     "Well,  I  shall  be  most 

pleased  when  that  day  comes." 

But  poor  Tamara  could  not  bear  this — the 
crystalizing  of  her  fears!  With  a  stifled  cry,  she 
buried  her  face  in  the  cushions.  He  did  not  at- 
tempt to  comfort  her — though  he  could  hardly 
control  his  longing  to  do  so.  Instead  of  which  he 
said  gravely,  "I  suppose  you  must  communicate 
with  your  family?  They  will  come  here  perhaps 
for  the  wedding?  You  have  not  to  ask  any  one's 
consent  by  the  laws  of  your  country,  have  you  ? — 
being  a  widow." 

Tamara  with  a  shamed  crimson  face  half  raised 
her  head. 

"I  am  free  to  do  as  I  choose,"  she  said,  and  she 
looked  down  in  crushed  wretchedness.  "Yes, 
I  suppose  they  will  come  to  the  wedding." 

"Lent  is  such  an  excellent  excuse,"  he  went 
on.  "And  all  this  society  is  accustomed  to  my 
doing  as  I  please,  so  there  will  be  no  great  wonder 
over  the  haste — only  I  am  sorry  if  it  inconveniences 
you — such  hurried  preparation." 

"How  long  is  it  before  Lent?"  Tamara  asked 
without  interest. 

277 


HIS  HOUR 

"Just  under  a  month — almost  four  weeks- 
shall  the  wedding  take  place  in  about  a  fortnight? 
Then  we  can  go  south  to  the  sun  to  spend  our 
honeymoon." 

"Just  as  you  will;"  Tamara  agreed  in  a  deadly 
resigned  voice.  "I  am  always  confused  with  the 
dates — the  difference  between  the  English  and 
Russian — will  you  write  down  what  it  will  be  that 
I  may  send  it  to  my  father?" 

He  picked  up  a  calendar  which  lay  upon 
the  table,  and  made  the  calculations,  then  he 
jotted  it  all  down  on  a  card  and  handed  it  to 
her. 

She  took  it  and  never  looking  at  him  rose  and 
made  a  step  toward  the  door,  and  as  she  passed 
the  table  where  he  had  put  her  wedding  ring  she 
surreptitiously  secured  it. 

"I  suppose  you  are  staying  for  lunch?"  she  said 
in  the  same  monotonous  voice.  "  Can  I  go  now  ? — 
do  you  want  to  say  any  more  ?  " 

"Tamara!"  he  exclaimed,  with  entreaty  in  his 
tone,  and  then  with  quick  repression  he  bowed 
gravely  and  once  more  touched  her  hand  with  his 
lips — ere  he  held  open  the  door  for  her. 
278 


HIS  HOUR 

"I  will  be  here  when  you  return — I  will  await 
your  pleasure." 

So  she  left  the  room  quietly.  And  when  she  was 
gone  he  walked  wildly  up  and  down  for  a  moment — 
then  he  bent  and  passionately  kissed  the  cushion 
she  had  leant  on. 

Tamara  would  learn  what  his  love  meant — 
when  the  day  should  come. 


CHAPTER  XX 

E  lunch  passed  off  with  quiet  reserve — 
there  was  no  one  present  but  Stephen 
Strong.  Tamara  endeavored  to  behave 
naturally  and  answered  Gritzko  whenever  he  spoke 
to  her.  He,  too,  played  his  part,  but  the  tone  of 
things  did  not  impose  upon  Stephen  Strong. 

As  they  were  leaving  the  dining-room,  on  the 
plea  of  finding  something,  Tamara  went  to  her 
room,  and  Gritzko  took  his  leave. 

"I  will  fetch  you  for  the  French  plays  to-night, 
Tantine,"  he  said,  "and  probably  will  come  back 
to  tea — tell  Tamara,"  and  so  he  left,  and  the  two 
old  friends  were  alone. 

They  stirred  their  coffee  and  then  lit  cigarettes — 
there  was  an  awkward  silence  for  a  moment,  and 
then  the  Princess  said: 

"Stephen,  I  count  upon  you  to  help  us  all  over 
this.  I  do  not,  and  will  not,  even  guess  what  has 
happened,  but  of  course  something  has.  Only 
280 


HIS  HOUR 

tell  me,  do  you  think  he  loves  her  ?  I  cannot  bear 
the  idea  of  Tamara's  being  unhappy." 

The  old  Englishman  puffed  rings  of  smoke. 

"If  she  is  prepared  never  to  cross  his  will,  but 
let  him  be  absolute  master  of  her  body  and  soul, 
while  he  makes  continuous  love  to  her,  I  should 
think  she  will  be  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world. 
She  is  madly  infatuated  with  him.  She  has  been 
ever  since  we  came  from  Egypt — I  saw  the  begin- 
ning on  the  boat — and  I  warned  you,  as  you  know, 
when  I  thought  he  was  only  fooling." 

"In  Egypt!— they  had  met  before  then!"  the 
Princess  exclaimed,  surprised;  "how  like  Gritzko 
to  pretend  he  did  not  know  her, — and  be  introduced 
all  over  again!  They  had  already  quarreled,  I 
suppose,  and  that  accounts  for  the  cat  and  dog 
like  tone  there  has  always  been  between  them." 

"Probably,"  said  Stephen  Strong;  but  now  I 
think  we  can  leave  it  to  chance.  You  may  be 
certain  that  to  marry  her  is  what  he  wishes  most  to 
do, — or  he  would  not  have  asked  her." 

"Not  even  if— he  thought  he  ought  to?" 

"No — dear  friend.  No!  I  believe  I  know 
Gritzko  even  better  than  you  do.  If  there  was  a 
281 


HIS  HOUR 

sense  of  obligation,  and  no  desire  in  the  case,  he 
would  simply  shoot  her  and  himself,  rather  than 
submit  to  a  fate  against  his  inclination.  You  may 
rest  in  peace  about  that.  Whatever  strain  there 
is  between  them,  it  is  not  of  that  sort.  I  believe  he 
adores  her  in  his  odd  sort  of  way,  just  let  them 
alone  now  and  all  will  be  well." 

And  greatly  comforted  the  Princess  was  able  to 
go  out  calling. 

The  news  was  received  with  every  sort  of  emotion, 
— surprise,  chagrin,  joy,  excitement,  speculation, 
and  there  were  even  those  among  them  who  averred 
they  had  predicted  this  marriage  all  along. 

"Fortunately  we  like  her,"  Countess  Olga  said. 
"She  is  a  good  sort,  and  perhaps  she  will  keep 
Gritzko  quiet,  and  he  may  be  faithful  to  her." 

But  this  idea  was  laughed  to  scorn,  until  Valonne 
joined  in  with  his  understanding  smile. 

"I  will  make  you  a  bet,"  he  said;  "in  five  years' 
time  they  will  still  be  love-birds.  She  will  be 
the  only  one  among  this  party  who  won't  have 
been  divorced  and  have  moved  on  to  another 
husband." 

"You  horribly  spiteful  cat!"  Princess  Sonia 
282 


HIS  HOUR 

laughed.  "But  I  am  sure  we  all  hope  they  will  be 
happy." 

Meanwhile  Jack  Courtray  had  come  in  at  once 
to  see  Tamara. 

"Well,  upon  my  word!  fancy  you  marrying  a 
foreigner,  old  girl!*'  he  said;  "but  you  have  got 
just  about  the  best  chap  I  have  ever  met,  and  I 
believe  you'll  be  jolly  happy." 

And  Tamara  bent  down  so  that  he  should  not 
see  the  tears  which  gathered  in  her  eyes,  while  she 
answered  softly,  "Thank  you  very  much,  Jack; 
but  no  one  is  ever  sure  of  being  happy." 

And  even  though  Lord  Courtray's  perceptions 
were  rather  thick  he  wondered  at  her  speech — it 
upset  him. 

"Look  here,  Tamara,"  he  said,  "don't  you  do 
it  then  if  it  is  a  chancy  sort  of  thing.  Don't  go 
and  tie  yourself  up  if  you  aren't  sure  you  love  him." 

Love  him! — good  God! 

Pent-up  feeling  overcame  Tamara.  She  an- 
swered in  a  voice  her  old  playmate  had  never 
dreamed  she  possessed — so  concentrated  and  full 
of  passion.  In  their  English  lives  they  were  so 
accustomed  to  controlling  every  feeling  into  a  level 
19  283 


HIS  HOUR 

commonplace  that  if  they  had  had  time  to  think, 
both  would  have  considered  this  outburst 
melodramatic. 

"Jack;"  Tamara  said,  "you  don't  know  what 
love  is.  I  tell  you  I  know  now — I  love  Gritzko  so 
that  I  would  rather  be  unhappy  with  him  than 
happy  with  any  one  else  on  earth.  And  if  they  ask 
you  at  home,  say  I  would  not  care  if  he  were  a 
Greek,  or  a  Turk,  or  an  African  nigger,  I  would 
follow  him  to  perdition. — There!" — and  she 
suddenly  burst  into  tears  and  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands. 

Yes,  it  was  true.  In  spite  of  shame  and  disgrace, 
and  fear,  she  loved  him — passionately  loved  him. 

Of  course  Jack,  who  was  the  kindest-hearted 
creature,  at  once  put  his  arm  around  her  and  took 
out  his  handkerchief  and  wiped  her  eyes,  while  he 
said  soothingly: 

"I  say,  my  child — there!  there! — this  will  never 
do,"  and  he  continued  to  pet  and  try  to  comfort 
her,  but  all  she  could  reply  was  to  ask  him  to  go, 
and  to  promise  her  not  to  say  anything  about  her 
outburst  of  tears  to  any  one. 

And,  horribly  distressed,  Jack  did  what  she 
284 


HIS  HOUR 

wished,  running  against  Gritzko  in  the  passage  as 
he  went  out;  but  they  had  met  before  that  day,  so 
he  did  not  stop,  but,  nodding  in  his  friendly  way, 
passed  down  the  stairs. 

Tamara  sat  where  he  had  left  her,  the  tears  still 
trickling  over  her  cheeks,  while  she  stared  into  the 
fire.  The  vision  she  saw  there  of  her  future  did 
not  console  her. 

To  be  married  to  a  man  whom  she  knew  she 
would  daily  grow  to  love  more — every  moment  of 
her  time  conscious  that  the  tie  was  one  of  sufferance, 
her  pride  and  self  respect  in  the  dust — it  was  a 
miserable  picture. 

Gritzko  came  in  so  quietly  through  the  ante- 
room that,  lost  in  her  troubled  thoughts,  she  did 
not  hear  him  until  he  was  quite  close.  She  gave  a 
little  startled  exclamation  and  then  looked  at  him 
defiantly — she  was  angry  that  he  saw  her  tears. 

His  face  went  white  and  his  voice  grew  hoarse 
with  overmastering  emotion. 

"What  has  happened  between  you  and  your 
friend,  Madame?  Tell  me  the  truth.  No  man 
should  see  you  cry!  Tell  me  everything,  or  I  will 
kill  him." 

285 


HIS  HOUR 

And  he  stood  there  his  eyes  blazing. 

Then  Tamara  rose  and  drew  herself  to  her  full 
height,  while  a  flash  of  her  vanished  pride  returned 
to  her  mien,  and  with  great  haughtiness  she 
answered  in  a  cold  voice: 

"I  beg  you  to  understand  one  thing,  Prince,  I 
will  not  be  insulted  by  suspicions  and  threats 
against  my  friends.  Lord  Courtray  and  I  have 
been  brought  up  as  brother  and  sister.  We  spoke 
of  my  home,  which  I  may  never  see  again,  and  I 
told  him  what  he  was  to  say  to  them  there  when 
they  asked  about  me.  If  I  have  cried  I  am  ashamed 
of  my  tears,  and  when  you  speak  and  act  as  you 
have  just  done,  it  makes  me  ashamed  of  the  feeling 
which  caused  them." 

He  took  a  step  nearer,  he  admired  her  courage. 

"What   was   the  feeling   which   caused   them? 

Tell  me,  I  must  know, "  he  said;  but  as  he 

spoke  he  chanced  to  notice  she  had  replaced  her 
wedding  ring,  it  shone  below  his  glittering  ruby. 

"That  I  will  not  bear!"  he  exclaimed,  and  with 
almost  violence  he  seized  her  wrist  and  forcibly 
drew  both  rings  from  her  finger,  and  then  replaced 
his  own. 

286 


HIS  HOUR 

"There  shall  be  no  token  of  another!  No  gold 
band  there  but  mine,  and  until  then,  no  jewel  but 
this  ruby!" 

Then  he  dropped  her  hand  and  turning,  threw 
the  wedding  ring  with  passion  in  the  fire! 

Tamara  made  a  step  forward  in  protest,  and  then 
she  stood  petrified  while  her  eyes  flashed  with 
anger. 

"Indeed,  yes,  I  am  ashamed  I  cried!"  she  said 
at  last  between  her  teeth. 

He  made  some  restless  paces,  he  was  very  much 
moved. 

"I  must  know "  he  began.  But  at  that 

moment  the  servants  came  in  with  the  tea,  and 
Tamara  seized  the  opportunity  while  they  were 
settling  the  tray  to  get  nearer  the  door,  and  then 
fled  from  the  room,  leaving  Gritzko  extremely 
disturbed. 

What  could  she  mean?  He  knew  in  his  calmer 
moments  he  had  not  the  least  cause  to  be  jealous  of 
Jack.  What  was  the  inference  in  her  words  ?  Two 
weeks  seemed  a  long  time  to  wait  before  he  could 
have  all  clouds  dispersed,  all  things  explained — 
as  she  lay  in  his  arms.  And  this  thought — to  hold 
287 


HIS  HOUR 

her  in  his  arms — drove  him  wild.  He  felt  inclined 
to  rush  after  her,  to  ask  her  to  forgive  him  for  his 
anger,  to  kiss  and  caress  her,  to  tell  her  he  loved  her 
madly  and  was  jealous  of  even  the  air  she  breathed 
until  he  should  hear  her  say  she  loved  him. 
He  went  as  far  as  to  write  a  note. 

"Madame,'  he  began — He  determined  to  keep 
to  the  severest  formality  or  he  knew  he  would  never 
be  able  to  play  his  part  until  the  end. — "I  regret 
my  passion  just  now.  The  situation  seemed  peculiar 
as  I  came  in.  I  understand  there  was  nothing  for 
me  to  have  been  angry  about, — please  forgive  me. 
Rest  now.  I  will  come  and  fetch  you  at  quarter  to 
eight. 

"GRITZKO." 

And  as  he  went  away  he  had  it  sent  to  her  room. 

And  when  Tamara  read  it  the  first  gleam  of 
comfort  she  had  known  since  the  night  at  the  hut 
illumined  her  thoughts.  If  he  should  love  her — 
after  all! — But  no,  this  could  not  be  so;  his  behavior 
was  not  the  behavior  of  love.  But  in  spite  of  the 
abiding  undercurrent  of  humiliation  and  shame, 
the  situation  was  intensely  exciting.  She  feverishly 
looked  forward  to  the  evening.  Her  tears  seemed 
288 


HIS  HOUR 

to  have  unlocked  her  heart — she  was  no  longer 
numb.  She  was  perfectly  aware  that  no  matter 
what  he  had  done  she  wildly  loved  him.  He  had 
taken  everything  from  her,  dragged  her  down  from 
her  pedestal,  but  that  last  remnant  of  self-respect 
she  would  keep.  He  should  not  know  of  this 
crowning  humiliation — that  she  still  loved  him.  So 
her  manner  was  like  ice  when  he  came  into  the 
room,  and  the  chill  of  it  communicated  itself  to 
him.  They  hardly  spoke  on  the  way  to  the  Theatre 
Michel,  and  when  they  entered  the  box  she  pre- 
tended great  interest  in  the  stage,  while,  between 
the  acts,  all  their  friends  came  in  to  give  their 
congratulations. 

Tamara  asked  to  be  excused  from  going  on  to 
supper  and  the  ball  which  was  taking  place.  And 
she  kept  close  to  her  godmother  while  going  out, 
and  so  contrived  that  she  did  not  say  a  word  alone 
with  Gritzko.  It  was  because  he  acquiesced  fully 
in  this  line  of  conduct  that  she  was  able  to  carry  it 
through,  otherwise  he  would  not  have  permitted 
it  for  a  moment. 

He  realized  from  this  night  that  the  situation 
could  only  be  made  possible  if  he  saw  her  rarely 
289 


HIS  HOUR 

and  before  people — alone  with  her,  human  nature 
would  be  too  strong.  So  with  the  most  frigid 
courtesy  and  ceremony  between  them  the  days 
wore  on,  and  toward  the  beginning  of  the  following 
week  Gritzko  went  off  with  Jack  Courtray  on  the 
bear-hunt.  He  could  stand  no  more. 

But  after  he  was  gone  Tamara  loathed  the 
moments.  She  was  overwrought  and  overstrung. 
Harassed  by  the  wailing  and  expostulations  of  her 
family  for  what  they  termed  her  "rash  act," 
worried  by  dressmakers  and  dozens  of  letters  to 
write,  troubled  always  with  the  one  dominating 
fear,  at  last  she  collapsed  and  for  two  days  lay 
really  ill  in  a  darkened  room. 

Then  Gritzko  returned,  and  there  were  only  five 
days  before  the  wedding.  He  had  sent  her  flowers 
each  morning  as  a  lover  should,  and  he  had 
loaded  her  with  presents, — all  of  which  she  re- 
ceived in  the  same  crushed  spirit.  With  the  fixed 
idea  in  her  brain  that  he  was  only  marrying  her 
because  as  a  gentleman  he  must,  none  of  his  gifts 
gave  her  any  pleasure.  And  he,  with  immense 
control  of  passion  had  played  his  part,  only  his 
time  of  probation  was  illumined  by  the  knowledge 
290 


HIS  HOUR 

of  coming  joy.  Whereas  poor  Tamara,  as  the 
time  wore  on,  lost  all  hope,  and  grew  daily 
paler  and  more  fragile-looking. 

Her  father  had  a  bad  attack  of  the  gout,  and 
could  not  possibly  move;  but  her  brother  Tom  and 
her  sister,  Lady  Newbridge,  and  Millicent  Hard- 
castle  were  to  arrive  three  days  before  the  wedding. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HE  night  of  the  bear-hunter's  return  there 
was  to  be  a  small  dinner  at  the  Ard&cheff 
house.  The  Princess  had  arranged  that 
there  should  be  a  party  of  six;  so  that  while  the  four 
played  bridge  the  fiance's  might  talk  to  one  another. 
She  was  growing  almost  nervous,  and  indeed  it  had 
required  all  Stephen  Strong's  assurance  that  things 
eventually  would  come  right  to  prevent  her  from 
being  actually  unhappy. 

"Let  'em  alone!"  the  old  man  said.  "Take  no 
notice!  you  won't  regret  it." 

Tamara  had  only  got  up  from  her  bed  that  after- 
noon and  was  very  pale  and  feeble.  She  wore  a 
white  clinging  dress  and  seemed  a  mere  slip  of 
a  girl.  The  great  string  of  beautiful  pearls, 
Gritzko's  latest  gift,  which  had  arrived  that  morning, 
was  round  her  neck,  and  her  sweet  eyes  glanced  up 
sadly  from  the  blue  shadows  which  encircled  them. 

Gritzko  was  already  there  when  the  Princess 
and  Tamara  reached  the  first  salon,  and  his  eyes 
292 


HIS  HOUR 

swam  with  passionate  concern  when  he  saw  how 
Tamara  had  been  suffering.  He  could  not  restrain 
the  feeling  in  his  voice  as  he  exclaimed : 

"You  have  been  ill!— my  sweet  lady!  Oh! 
Tantine,  why  did  you  not  send  for  me?  How 
could  you  let  her  suffer?" 

And  a  sudden  wave  of  happiness  came  over 
Tamara  when  he  kissed  her  hand.  She  was  so 
weak  the  least  thing  could  have  made  her  cry. 

But  her  happiness  was  short-lived,  for  Gritzko — 
afraid  yet  of  showing  what  was  in  his  heart — seemed 
now  colder  than  ever;  though  he  was  exulting 
within  himself  at  the  thought  that  the  moment 
would  come  soon  when  all  this  pretence  should 
end. 

Tamara,  knowing  nothing  of  these  things,  felt 
a  new  sinking  depression.  In  five  days  she  would 
be  his  wife,  and  then  when  he  had  paid  the  honor- 
able price — how  would  he  treat  her  ? — 

He  was  looking  wildly  attractive  to-night,  his 
voice  had  a  thousand  tones  in  it  when  he  addressed 
the  others,  he  was  merry  and  witty  and  gay — and 
almost  made  love  to  the  Princess — only  to  his 
fiancee  did  he  seem  reserved. 
293 


HIS  HOUR 

The  food  appeared  impossible  to  swallow.  She 
almost  felt  at  last  as  though  she  were  going  to  faint. 
The  hopeless  anguish  of  the  situation  weighed  upon 
her  more  than  ever;  for,  alas!  she  felt  she  loved  him 
now  beyond  any  pride,  every  barrier  was  broken 
down.  She  had  no  more  anger  or  resentment  for 
the  night  at  the  hut.  All  his  many  sins  were 
forgiven. 

Dinner  was  an  impossible  penance,  and  with 
a  feverish  excitement  she  waited  for  the  time  when 
they  should  be  alone. 

It  seemed  an  eternity  before  coffee  was  finished 
and  the  four  retired  to  their  bridge.  Then  the  two 
passed  out  of  the  room  and  on  into  the  blue  salon. 

It  was  extremely  difficult  for  both  of  them.  The 
Prince  could  scarcely  control  his  mad  longing  to 
caress  her.  Only  that  strange  turn  in  his  character 
held  him.  Also  the  knowledge  that  once  he  were 
to  grant  himself  an  inch  he  could  never  restrain 
the  whole  of  his  wild  passion,  and  there  were  yet 
five  days  before  she  should  be  really  his . 

Tamara  looked  a  white,  frozen  shape  as  she 
almost  fell  into  the  sofa  below  the  Falconet  group. 
Cupid  with  his  laughing  eyes  peeped  down  and 
294 


HIS  HOUR 

mocked  her.  Gritzko  did  not  sit  beside  her.  He 
took  a  chair  and  leant  on  a  table  near. 

"We  had  good  sport,"  he  said  dryly.  "Your 
friend  can  hit  things.  We  got  two  bears." 

"Jack  must  have  been  pleased,"  Tamara 
answered  dully. 

"And  your  family — they  arrive  on  Monday,  isn't 
it?"  he  asked.  "Your  brother  and  sister  and  the 
estimable  Mrs.  Hardcastle?"  and  he  laughed  as 
he  always  did  at  the  mention  of  Millicent.  "They 
will  wonder,  won't  they,  why  you  are  marrying 
this  savage!  but  they  will  not  know." 

"No!"  said  Tamara.  "They  must  never  know." 
Gritzko 's  face  became  whimsical,  a  disconcerting, 
mischievous  provoking  smile  stole  into  'his  eyes. 

"Do  you  know  yourself?"  he  asked. 

She  looked  up  at  him  startled.  It  was  her 
habit  now  never  to  meet  his  eyes.  Indeed,  the 
sense  of  humiliation  under  which  she  lived  had 
changed  all  her  fearless  carriage  of  head. 

"Why  do  you  ask  such  questions?  I  might  as 

well  ask  you  why  are  you  marrying  me.     We  both 

know  that  we  cannot  help  it,"  and  there  was  a 

break  in  her  voice  which  touched  him  profoundly. 

295 


HIS  HOUR 

"  Answer  for  yourself  please,  I  may  have  several 
other  reasons,"  he  said  coldly,  and  got  up  and 
walked  across  the  room  picking  up  a  bibelot  here 
and  there,  and  replacing  it  restlessly. 

Tamara  longed  to  ask  him  what  these  reasons 
were.  She  was  stirred  with  a  faint  hope,  but  she 
had  not  the  courage,  the  intensity  of  her  feeling 
made  her  dumb. 

"They — Tantine — or  Sonia — have  explained  to 
you  all  the  service,  I  suppose,"  he  said  at  last.  "  It 
is  'different  to  yours  in  your  country.  It  means 
much  more — " 

"And  is  more  easily  broken." 

"That  is  so,  but  we  shall  not  break  ours,  except 
by  death,1"  and  he  raised  his  head  proudly.  "From 
Wednesday  onward  the  rest  of  your  life  belongs  to 
me." 

Tamara  shivered.  If  she  could  only  overcome 
this  numbness  which  had  returned — if  she  could 
only  let  her  frozen  heart  speak;  this  was  surely 
the  moment,  but  she  could  not,  she  remained 
silent  and  white  and  lifeless. 

He  came  over  to  the  sofa. 

"Tamara,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  vibrated  with 
296 


HIS  HOUR 

suppressed  passion.  "Will  you  tell  me  the  truth? 
Do  you  hate  me, — or  what  do  you  feel  for  me?" 

She  thought  he  meant  only  to  torture  her  further; 
she  would  not  answer  the  question. 

"Is  it  not  enough  that  you  have  conquered  me 
by  force  ?  Why  should  you  care  to  know  what  my 
feelings  are  ?  As  you  say,  after  Wednesday  I  shall 
belong  to  you — You  can  strangle  me  at  Milaslav 
if  you  wish.  My  body  will  be  yours,  but  my  soul 
you  shall  never  soil  or  touch,  you  have  no  part  or 
lot  in  that  matter,  Prince." 

His  eyes  filled  with  pain. 

"  I  will  even  have  your  soul,"  he  said.  Then,  as 
though  restraining  further  emotion,  he  went  on 
coldly.  "I  have  arranged  that  after  the  wedding 
we  go  to  my  house,  and  do  not  start  for  the  South 
until  Saturday.  There  are  some  things  I  wish  to 
show  you  there.  Will  that  be  as  you  wish?" 

"I  have  no  wishes,  it  is  as  you  please,"  Tamara 
answered  monotonously. 

He  gave  an  impatient  shrug,  and  walked  up  and 

down  the  room,  his  will  kept  its  mastery,  but  it 

was  a  tremendous  strain.     Her  words  had  stung 

him,  her  intense  quiet  and  absence  of  emotion  had 

297 


HIS  HOUR 

produced  a  faint  doubt.  What  if  after  all  he 
should  never  be  able  to  make  her  love  him.  For 
the  first  time  in  his  life  a  hand  of  ice  clutched  his 
heart.  He  knew  in  those  moments  of  agony  that 
she  meant  the  whole  world  to  him. 

He  glanced  at  her  slender  graceful  figure  so 
listlessly  leaning  against  the  blue  cushions,  at  her 
pale  ethereal  face,  and  then  he  turned  abruptly 
away  toward  the  door  to  the  other  salon. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "it  is  of  no  avail  to  talk  further, 
we  will  say  good-night."  Tamara  rose.  The  way 
to  her  room  led  from  the  opposite  side. 

"Good-night  then,"  she  said,  "make  my  adieu 
to  Sonia  and  the  rest.  I  shall  go  to  bed,"  and  she 
walked  that  way.  The  whole  floor  was  between 
them,  as  she  looked  back.  He  stood  rigid  by  the 
other  door. 

Then  with  great  strides  he  was  beside  her,  and 
had  taken  her  in  his  arms. 

"Ah!  God!"  he  said,  as  he  fiercely  kissed  her, 
and  then  almost  flung  her  from  him,  and  strode 
from  the  room. 

And  Tamara  went  on  to  her  own,  trembling 
with  excitement. 

298 


HIS  HOUR 

This  was  passion  truly,  but  what  if  some  love 
lurked  underneath? — and  when  she  reached  her 
great  white  bed  she  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  bury- 
ing her  face  in  her  hands  she  prayed  to  God. 


Now  of  what  use  to  write  of  the  days  that  fol- 
lowed— the  stiff  restrained  days — or  of  the  arrival 
of  Tom  Underdown  and  his  sister,  and  Millicent 
Hardcastle — or  of  the  splendid  Russian  ceremonies 
in  the  church  or  the  quieter  ones  at  the  Embassy. 
All  that  it  concerns  us  to  know  is  that  Gritzko  and 
Tamara  were  at  last  alone  on  this  their  wedding 
night.  Alone  with  all  their  future  before  them. 
Both  then*  faces  had  been  grave  and  solemn  through 
all  the  vows  and  prayers,  but  afterward  his  had 
shone  with  a  wild  triumph.  And  as  they  had 
driven  to  his  house  on  the  Fontonka  he  had  held 
Tamara's  hand  but  had  not  spoken. 

It  was  a  strange  eventful  moment  when  he  led 
her  up  the  great  stairs  between  the  rows  of  bowing 
servants — up  into  the  salons  all  decorated  with 
flowers.  Then,  still  never  speaking,  he  opened 
the  ball-room  doors,  and  when  they  had  walked 
20  299 


HIS  HOUR 

its  great  length  and  came  to  the  rooms  beyond* 
he  merely  said: 

"These  you  must  have  done  by  that  man  in 
Paris — or  how  you  please,"  as  though  the  matter 
were  aloof,  and  did  not  interest  him.  And  then 
instead  of  turning  into  his  own  sitting-room,  he 
opened  a  door  on  the  right,  which  Tamara  did  not 
know,  and  they  entered  what  had  been  his  mother's 
bedroom.  It  was  warmed  and  lit,  but  it  wore 
that  strange  air  of  gloom  and  melancholy  which 
untenanted  rooms,  consecrated  to  the  memory  of 
the  dead,  always  have,  in  spite  of  blue  satin  and 
bright  gilding. 

"Tamara,"  he  said,  and  he  took  her  hand,  "these 
were  my  mother's  rooms.  I  loved  her  very  much, 
and  I  always  thought  I  would  never  let  any  woman 
— even  my  wife — enter  them.  I  have  left  them 
just  as  she  used  them  last.  But  now  I  know  that 
is  not  what  she  would  have  wished." 

His  deep  voice  trembled  a  little  with  a  note  of 
feeling  in  it  which  was  new,  and  which  touched 
Tamara's  innermost  being. 

"I  want  you  to  see  them  now  with  me,  and  then 
while  we  are  in  the  South  all  these  things  shall  be 
300 


HIS  HOUR 

taken  away,  and  they  shall  be  left  bare  and  white 
for  you  to  arrange  them  when  we  come  back,  just 
as  you  would  like.  I  want  my  mother's  blessing 
to  rest  on  us — which  it  will  do " 

Then  he  paused,  and  there  was  a  wonderful 
silence,  and  when  he  went  on,  his  tones  were  full 
of  a  great  tenderness. 

"Little  one,  in  these  rooms,  some  day  I  will 
make  you  happy." 

Tamara  trembled  so  she  could  hardly  stand,  the 
reaction  from  her  misery  was  so  immense.  She 
swayed  a  little  and  put  out  her  hand  to  steady 
herself  by  the  back  of  a  chair.  He  thought  she 
was  going  to  fall,  seeing  her  so  white,  and  he  put 
his  arm  round  her  as  he  led  her  through  the  room 
and  into  the  sitting-room,  and  then  beyond  again 
to  a  little  sanctuary.  Here  a  lamp  swung  before 
the  Ikon,  and  the  colors  were  subdued  and  rich, 
while  the  virgin's  soft  eyes  looked  down  upon  them. 
There  were  fresh  lilies,  too,  in  a  vase  below,  and 
their  scent  perfumed  the  air.  He  knelt  for  a  second 
and  whispered  a  prayer,  then  he  rose,  and  they 
looked  into  each  other's  eyes — and  their  souls  met 
— and  all  shadows  rolled  away. 
301 


HIS  HOUR 

"Tamara!"  he  said,  and  he  held  out  his  arms — 
and  with  a  little  inarticulate  cry  almost  of  pain 
Tamara  fell  into  them — and  he  folded  her  to  his 
heart — while  he  bent  and  kissed  her  hair. 

Then  he  held  her  from  him  and  looked  deep  into 
her  eyes. 

"Sweetheart — am  I  forgiven?"  he  asked,  and 
when  she  could  speak  she  answered: 

"Yes — you  are  forgiven." 

Then  he  questioned  again. 

"Tamara,  do  you  love  me?" 

But  he  saw  the  answer  in  her  sweet  face,  and 
did  not  wait  for  her  to  speak,  but  kissed  her 
mouth. 

Then  he  lifted  her  in  his  arms  like  a  baby  and 
carried  her  back  through  the  ghostly  rooms  to  his 
warm  human  sitting-room,  and  there  he  laid  her 
tenderly  down  upon  the  couch  and  knelt  beside 
her. 

"Oh,  my  heart,"  he  said.  "What  this  time  has 
been — since  you  promised  to  marry  me! — but  I 
would  not  change  it — I  wanted  you  to  love  me 
beyond  everything — beyond  anger  with  me,  beyond 
— fear — beyond  your  pride.  Now  tell  me  you  do. 
302 


HIS  HOUR 

My  sweet  one.  Moia  Doushka.  I  must  know. 
I  must  know.  You  mean  my  life — tell  me?" 

And  passion  overcame  Tamara,  and  she  answered 
him  in  a  low  voice  of  vibrating  emotion. 

**  Gritzko !  do  you  think  I  care  for  what  you  have 
done  or  will  do !  You  know  very  well  I  have  always 
loved  you!"  And  she  put  up  her  mouth  for  him 
to  kiss  her.  Then  he  went  quite  mad  for  a  few 
moments  with  joy — he  caressed  her  as  even  on  the 
dawn-drive  she  had  never  dreamed,  and  pres- 
ently he  said  with  deep  earnestness. 

"Darling,  we  must  live  for  one  another — in 
the  world  of  course  for  duty;  but  our  real  life  shall 
be  alone  at  Milasldv  for  only  you  and  me.  You 
must  teach  me  to  be  calm  and  to  banish  impossible 
thoughts.  You  must  make  yourself  my  center — 
Tamara,  you  must  forget  all  your  former  life,  and 
give  yourself  to  me,  sweetheart.  My  country 
must  be  your  country,  my  body  your  body,  and  my 
soul  your  soul.  I  love  you  better  than  heaven  or 
earth — and  you  are  mine  now  till  death  do  us  part." 

Then  the  glory  of  paradise  seemed  to  descend 
upon  Tamara,  as  he  bent  and  kissed  her  lips. 

Oh!  what  did  anything  else  matter  in  the  world 
303 


HIS  HOUR 

since  after  all  he  loved  her!     This  beautiful  fierce 
lover! 

Visions  of  enchantment  presented  themselves — 
a  complete  intoxication  of  joy. 

He  held  her  in  his  arms,  and  all  the  strange 
passion  and  mystic  depths  which  had  fascinated 
her  always,  now  dwelt  in  his  eyes,  only  intensified 
by  delirious  love. 

"Do  you  remember,  Sweetheart,  how  you  defied 
and  resisted  me?  Darling!  Heart  of  mine!  but 
I  have  conquered  you  and  taken  you,  hi  spite  of  all ! 
You  cannot  struggle  any  more,  you  are  my  own. 
Only  you  must  tell  me  that  you  give  me,  too,  your 
soul.  Ah!  you  said  once  I  should  have  no  part 
or  lot  in  that  matter.  Tamara,  tell  me  that  I 
have  it?" 

And  Tamara  thrilled  with  ecstasy  as  she  whis- 
pered, "Yes,  you  have  it." 

She  cared  not  at  all  about  pride — she  did  not 
wish  to  struggle,  she  adored  being  conquered.  Her 
entire  being  was  merged  in  his. 

He  held  her  from  him  for  a  second  and  the  old 
whimsical  smile  full  of  tender  mischief  stole  into 
his  eyes. 

304 


HIS  HOUR 

"That  night  at  the  hut — when  you  dropped  the 
pistol  when — well,  don't  you  want  to  know  what 
really  did  happen?"  he  said. 

She  buried  her  face  in  his  scarlet  coat. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  she  cried.  "  It  is  all  forgotten 
and  forgiven." 

Then  with  wild  passion  he  clasped  her  to  his 
breast. 

"Oh!  Love!"  he  said.  "My  sweet  Princess; 
the  gods  are  very  kind  to  us,  for  all  happiness  is 
yet  to  come — !  I  did  but  kiss  your  little  feet." 


(S) 


THE   END 


A  FEW  OF 

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Illustrated  by  Henry  Roth. 

All  who  love  honest  sentiment,  quaint  and  sunny  humor, 
and  homespun  philosophy  will  find  these  "  Further  Adven- 
tures" a  book  after  then-  own  heart. 

HALF  A  CHANCE.  By  Frederic  S.  Isham.  Illus- 
trated by  Herman  Pfeifer. 

The  thrill  of  excitement  will  keep  the  reader  in  a  state  of 
suspense,  and  he  will  become  personally  concerned  from  the 
start,  as  to  the  central  character,  a  very  real  man  who  suffers, 
dares— and  achieves  1 

VIRGINIA   OF   THE   AIR    LANES.    By   Herbert 

Quick.    Illustrated  by  William  R.  Leigh. 
The  author  has  seized  the  romantic  moment  for  the  airship 
novel,  and  created  the  pretty  story  of  "  a  lover  and  his  lass 
contending  with  an  elderly  relative  for  the  monopoly  of  the 
skies.    An  exciting  tale  of  adventure  in  midair. 

THE  GAME  AND  THE  CANDLE.    By  Eleanor  M. 

Ingram.    Illustrated  by  P.  D.  Johnson. 
The  hero  is  a  young  American,  who,  to  save  his  family  from 
poverty,  deliberately  commits  a  felony.    Then  follow  his  cap- 
ture and  imprisonment,  and  his  rescue  by  a  Russian  Grand 
Duke.    A  stirring  story,  rich  in  sentiment 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET  &    DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

HAPPY  HAWKINS.    By  Robert  Alexander  Wason.   Illus- 

trated  by  Howard  Giles. 

A  ranch  and  cowboy  novel.    Happy  Hawkins  tells  his  own  story 
with  such  a  fine  capacity  for  knowing  how  to  do  it  and  with  so  much 
humor  that  the  reader's  interest  is  held  in  surprise,  then  admirat  ;on  f 
and  at  last  in  positive  affection. 

COMRADES.    By  Thomas  Dixon,  Jr.    Illustrated  by  C.  D. 
Williams. 

The  locale  of  this  story  is  in  California,  where  a  few  socialists 
establish  a  little  community. 

The  author  leads  the  iKtle  band  along  the  path  of  disillusion- 
ment, and  gives  some  brilliant  flashes  ot  light  on  one  side  of  an 
important  question. 
TONO-BUNGAY.    By  Herbert  George  Wells. 

The  hero  of  this  novel  is  a  young  man  who,  through  hard  work, 
earns  a  scholarship  and  goes  to  London. 

Written  with  a  frankness  verging  on  Rousseau's,  Mr.  Wells  still 
uses  rare  discrimination  and  the  border  line  of  propriety  is  never 
crossed.    An  entertaining  book  with  both  a  story  and  a  moral,  and 
without  a  dull  page — Mr.  Wells's  most  notable  achievement. 
A.  HUSBAND  BY  PROXY.    By  Jack  Steele. 

A  youn 
is  drawn 
through  I 

simplest  child  and  again  a  perfect  mistress  of  intrigue.    A  baffling 
detective  story. 

LIKE  ANOTHER  HELEN.    By  George  Horton.    Illus- 
trated  by  C  M.  Relyea. 

Mr.  Horton  a  powerful  romance  stands  in  a  new  field  and  brings 
an  almost  unknown  world  in  reality  before  the  reader — the  world 
of  conflict  between  Greek  and  Turk  on  the  Island  of  Crete.  The 
44  Helen  "  of  the  story  is  a  Greek,  beautiful,  desolate,  defiant — pure 
as  snow. 

There  is  a  certain  new  force  about  the  story,  a  kind  of  master* 
<  craf  u  manship  and  mental  dominance  that  holds  the  reader. 
!THE    MASTER    OF   APPLEBY.     By   Francis    Lynde. 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

"A  novel  tale  concerning  itself  in  part  with  the  great  struggle  in 
the  two  Carolinas,  but  chiefly  with  the  adventures  therein  of  two 
gentlemen  who  loved  one  and  the  same  lady. 

A  strong,  masculine  and  persuasive  story. 
A  MODERN  MADONNA.    By  Caroline  Abbot  Stanley. 

A  story  of  American  life,  founded  on  facts  as  they  existed  some 
years  ago  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  The  theme  is  the  maternal 
love  and  splendid  courage  of  a  woman. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET  &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

WHEN  A  MAN  MARRIES.    By  Mary  Roberts  Rineharti 
Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher  and  Mayo  Bunker. 

A  young  artist,  whose  wife  had  recently  divorced  him,  finds  that 
a  visit  is  due  from  his  Aunt  Selina,  an  elderly  lady  having  ideas 
about  things  quite  apart  from  the  Bohemian  set  in  which  her 
nephew  is  a  shining  light.  The  way  in  which  matters  are  tempo- 
rarily adjusted  forms  the  motif  of  the  story. 

A  farcical  extravaganza,  dramatized  under  the  title  of  "Seven  Days" 
THE  FASHIONABLE    ADVENTURES   OF  JOSHUA 
CRAIG.    By  David  Graham  Phillips.     Illustrated. 

A  young  westerner,  uncouth  and  unconventional,  appears  in 
political  and  social  life  in  Washington.  He  attains  power  in  poli- 
tics, and  a  young  woman  of  the  exclusive  set  becomes  his  wife,  un- 
dertaking his  education  in  social  amenities. 

"  DOC."  GORDON.     By  Mary  E.  Wilkins-Freeman,     Illus. 
trated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Against  the  familiar  background  of  American  town  life,  the 
author  portrays  a  group  of  people  strangely  involved  in  a  mystery. 
"Doc.  Gordon,  the  one  physician  of  the  place,  Dr.  Elliot,  his 
assistant,  a  beautiful  woman  and  her  altogether  charming  daughtet 
are  all  involved  in  the  plot.  A  novel  of  great  interest 
HOLY  ORDERS.  By  Marie  Corelli. 

A  dramatic  story,  in  which  is  pictured  a  clergyman  in  touch  with 
society  people,  stage  favorites,  simple  village  folk,  powerful  finan- 
ciers and  others,  each  presenting  vital  problems  to  this  man  ^  in 
holy  orders  " — problems  that  we  are  now  struggling  with  in  America. 
KATRINE.  By  Elinor  Macartney  Lane.  With  frontispiece. 

Katrine,  the  heroine  of  this  story,  is  a  lovely  Irish  girl,  of  lowly 
birth,  but  gifted  with  a  beautiful  voice. 

The  narrative  is  based  on  the  facts  of  an  actual  singer's  career, 
and  the  viewpoint  throughout  is  a  most  exalted  one. 
THE   FORTUNES    OF  FIFI.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 
Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

A  story  of  life  in  France  at  the  time  of  the  first  Napoleon.    Fifi, 
a  glad,  mad  little  actress  of  eighteen,  is  the  star  performer  in  a  third 
rate  Parisian  theatre.    A  story  as  dainty  as  a  Watteau  painting. 
SHE   THAT    HESITATES.    By   Harris  Dickson.    Illus- 
trated by  C.  W.  Relyea. 

The  scene  of  this  dashing  romance  shifts  from  Dresden  to  St. 
Petersburg  in  the  reign  of  Peter  the  Great,  and  then  to  New  Orleans. 

The  hero  is  a  French  Soldier  of  Fortune,  and  the  princess,  who 
hesitates — but  you  must  read  the  story  to  know  how  she  that  hesitates 
may  be  lost  and  yet  saved. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


TITLES    SELECTED   FROM 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP'S    LIST 

REALISTIC.  ENGAGING  PICTURES  OF  LIFF 

THE  GARDEN  OF  FATE.  By  Roy  Norton.  Illustrated 

by  Joseph  Clement  Coll. 

The  colorful  romance  of  an  American  girl  in  Morocco,  and 
..d  a  beautiful  garden,  whose  beauty  and  traditions  of  strange 
subtle  happenings  were  closed  to  the  world  by  a  Sultan's  seal. 

THE  MAN  HIGHER  UP.     By  Henry  Russell  Miller. 

Full  page  vignette  illustrations  by  M.  Leone  Bracket. 

The  story  of  a  tenement  waif  who  rose  by  his.own  ingenuity 

to  the  office  of  mayor  of  his  native  city.     His  experiences 

while  "climbing,"  make  a  most  interesting  example  of  the 

possibilities  of  human  nature  to  rise  above  circumstances. 

THE  KEY  TO  YESTERDAY.      By  Charles  Neville 

Buck.     Illustrated  by  R.  Schabelitz. 

Robert  Saxon,  a  prominent  artist,  has  an  accident,  while  in 

Paris,  which  obliterates  his  memory,  and  the  only  clue  he  has 

to  his  former  life  is  a  rusty  key.    What  door  in  Paris  will  it 

unlock?    He  must  know  that  before  he  woos  the  girl  he  loves. 

THE  DANGER  TRAIL.     By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 
The  danger  trail  is  over  the  snow-smothered  North.    A 
;oung  Chicago  engineer,  who  is  building  a  road  through  the 
Hud&on  Bay  region,  is  involved  in  mystery,  and  is  led  into 
ambush  by  a  young  woman. 

THE  GAY  LORD  WARING.     By  Houghton  Townley. 

Illustrated  by  Will  Grefe. 

A  story  of  the  smart  hunting  set  in  England.  A  gay  young 
iord  wins  in  love  against  his  selfish  and  cowardly  brother  and 
apparently  against  fate  itself. 

BY  INHERITANCE.     By  Octave  Thanet.     Illustrated 

by  Thomas  Fogarty.     Elaborate  wrapper  in  colors. 

A  wealthy  New  England  spinster  with  the  most  elaborate 

plans  for  the  education  of  the  negro  goes  to  visit  her  nephew 

m  Arkansas,  where  she  learns  the  needs  of  the  colored  race 

first  hand  and  begins  to  lose  her  theories. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


GROSSET  &    DUNLAP'S 
DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

Original,  sincere  and1  courageous — often  amusing — the 
kind  that  are  making  theatrical  history. 

rMADAME  X.     By  Alexandra  Bisson  and  J.  W.  McCon 
aughy.      Illustrated    with    scenes    from    the    play. 
A  beautiful  Parisienne  became  an  outcast  because  her  hus- 
band would  not  forgive  an  error  of  her  youth.    Her  love  for 
her  son  is  the  great  final  influence  in  her  career.    A  tremen- 
dous dramatic  success. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  ALLAH.    By  Robert  Hichens. 

An  unconventional  English  woman  and  an  inscrutable 
stranger  meet  and  love  in  an  oasis  of  the  Sahara.  Staged 
this  season  with  magnificent  cast  and  gorgeous  properties. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  INDIA.    By  Lew.  Wallace. 

A  glowing  romance  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  presenting 
with  extraordinary  power  the  siege  of  Constantinople,  and 
lighting  its  tragedy  with  the  warm  underglow  of  an  Oriental 
romance.  As  a  play  it  is  a  great  dramatic  spectacle. 

TESS  OF    THE    STORM    COUNTRY.      By  Grace 
Miller  White.     Illust.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
A  girl  from  the  dregs  of  society,  loves  a  young  Cornell  Uni- 
versity student,  and  it  works  startling  changes  in  her  life  and 
the  lives  of  those  about  her.    The  dramatic  version  is  one  of 
the  sensations  of  the  season. 

YOUNG    WALLINGFORD.      By  George    Randolph 

Chester.     Illust.  by  F.  R.  Gruger  and  Henry  Raleigh. 

A  series  of  clever  swindles  conducted  by  a  cheerful  young 

man,  each  of  which  is  just  on  the  safe  side  of  a  State's  prison 

offence.    As  "Get-Rich-Quick  Wallingford,"  it  is  probably 

the  most  amusing  expose  of  money  manipulation  ever  seer 

on  the  stage. 

THE  INTRUSION   OF  JIMMY.    By  P.  G.  Wode 

house.     Illustrations  by  Will  Grefe. 
Social  and  club  life  in  London  and  New  York,  an  amateur 
burglary  adventure  and  a  love  story.    Dramatized  under  the 
title  of  "A  Gentleman  of   Leisure,"  it  furnishes  hours  of 
laughter  to  the  play-goers. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


LOUIS  TRACY'S 

CAPTIVATING  AND  EXHILARATING  ROMANCES 

THE  STOWAWAY  GIRL.    Illustrated  by  Nesbitt  Benson. 

The  story  of  a  shipwreck,  a  lovely  girl  who  shipped  stow- 
away fashion,  a  rascally  captain,  a  fascinating  young  officer 
and  thrilling  adventure  enroute  to  South  America. 
THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  KANSAS. 

A  story  of  love  and  the  salt  sea — of  a  helpless  ship  whirled 
into  the  hands  of  cannibal  Fuegians — of  desperate  fighting 
and  a  tender  romance.    A  story  of  extraordinary  freshness. 
THE  MESSAGE.     Illustrated  by  Joseph  Cummings  Chase. 

A  bit  of  parchment  many,  many  years  old,  telling  of  a 
priceless  ruby  secreted  in  ruins  far  in  the  interior  of  Africa  is 
the  "message"  found  in  the  figurehead  of  an  old  vessel.  A 
mystery  develops  which  the  reader  will  follow  with  breathless 
interest. 
THE  PILLAR  OF  LIGHT. 

The  pillar  thus  designated  was  a  lighthouse,  and  the  au- 
thor tells  with  exciting  detail  the  terrible  dilemma  of  its  cut- 
off inhabitants  and  introduces  the  charming  comedy  of  a  man 
eloping  with  his  own  wife. 
THE  RED  YEAR:    A  Story  of  the  Indian  Mutiny. 

The  never-to-be-forgotten  events  of  1857  form  the  back- 
ground of  this  story.  The  hero  who  begins  as  lieutenant  and 
ends  as  Major  Malcolm,  has  as  stirring  a  military  career  as 
the  most  jaded  novel  reader  could  wish.  A  powerful  book. 
THE  WHEEL  O'FQRTUNE.  With  illustrations  by  James 
Montgomery  Flagg. 

The  story  deals  with  the  finding  of  a  papyrus  containing 
the  particulars  of  the  hiding  of  some  of  the  treasures  of  the 
Queen  of  Sheba.  The  glamour  of  mystery  added  to  the 
romance  of  the  lovers,  gives  the  novel  an  interest  that  makes 
it  impossible  to  leave  until  the  end  is  reached. 
THE  WINGS  OF  THE  MORNING. 

A  sort  of  Robinson  Crusoe  redivivus,  with  modern  settings 
and  a  very  pretty  love  story  added.  The  hero  and  heroine  are 
the  only  survivors  of  a  wreck,  and  have  adventures  on  their 
desert  island  such  as  never  could  have  happened  except  in  a 
Btory. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.  ,  NEW  YORK 


THE  NOVELS  OF 

WINSTON  CHURCHILL 

Skillful  in  plot,    dramatic  in    episode,    powerful  and  original  in  climax. 

MR.  CREWE'S  CAREER.  Illus.  by  A.I.  Keller  and  Kinneys. 

A  New  England  state  is  under  the  political  domination 
of  a  railway  and  Mr.  Crewe,  a  millionaire,  seizes  the  moment 
when  the  cause  of  the  people  against  corporation  greed  is 
being  espoused  by  an  ardent  young  attorney,  to  further  his 
own  interest  in  a  political  way,  by  taking  up  this  cause. 

The  daughter  of  the  railway  president,  with  the  sunny 
humor  and  shrewd  common  sense  of  the  New  England  girl, 
plays  no  small  part  in  the  situation  as  well  as  in  the  life  ofthe 
young  attorney  who  stands  so  unflinchingly  for  clean  politics. 
THE  CROSSING.  Illus.  by  S.  Adamson  and  L.  Baylis. 

Describing  the  battle  of  Fort  Moultrie  and  the  British 
fleet  in  the  harbor  of  Charleston,  the  blazing  of  the  Kentucky 
wilderness,  the  expedition  of  Clark  and  his  handful  of  daunt- 
less followers  in  Illinois,  the  beginning  of  civilization  along 
the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  and  the  treasonable  schemes  builded 
against  Washington  and  the  Federal  Government 
CONISTON.  Illustrated  by  Florence  Scovel  Shinn. 

A  deft  blending  of  love  and  politics  distinguishes  this 
book.  The  author  has  taken  for  his  hero  a  New  Englander, 
a  crude  man  of  the  tannery,  who  rose  to  political  prominence 
by  his  own  powers,  and  then  surrendered  all  for  the  love  of  a 
woman. 

It  is  a  sermon  on  civic  righteousness,  and  a  love  story  of  a 
deep  motive. 
THE  CELEBRITY.    An  Episode. 

An  inimitable  bit  of  comedy  describing  an  interchange  of 
personalities  between  a  celebrated  author  and  a  bicycle  sales- 
man of  the  most  blatant  type.  The  story  is  adorned  with 
some  character  sketches  more  living  than  pen  work.  It  is  the 
purest,  keenest  fun — no  such  piece  of  humor  has  appeared  for 
years :  it  is  American  to  the  core. 
THE  CRISIS.  Illus.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 

A  book  that  presents  the  great  crisis  in  our  national  life 
with  splendid  power  and  with  a  sympathy,  a  sincerity,  and  a 
patriotism  that  are  inspiring.  The  several  scenes  in  the  book 
m  which  Abraham  Lincoln  figures  must  be  read  in  their  en- 
tirety for  they  give  a  picture  of  that  great,  magnetic,  lovable 
man,  which  has  been  drawn  with  evident  affection  and  excep- 
tional success. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26TH  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN'S 
STORIES   OF  PURE   DELIGHT 

Full   of  originality  and   humor,    kindliness   and  cheer 

THE  OLD  PEABODY  PEW.  Large  Octavo.  Decorative 
text  pages,  printed  in  two  colors.  Illustrations  by  Alice 
Barber  Stephens. 

One  of  the  prettiest  romances  that  has  ever  come  from  this 
author's  pen  is  made  to  bloom  on  Christmas  Eve  in  the  sweet 
freshness  of  an  old  New  England  meeting  house. 

PENELOPE'S  PROGRESS.  Attractive  cover  design  in 
colors. 

Scotland  is  the  background  for  the  merry  doings  of  three  very 
clever  and  original  American  girls.  Their  adventures  in  adjusting 
themselves  to  the  Scot  and  his  land  are  full  of  humor. 

PENELOPE'S  IRISH  EXPERIENCES.  Uniform  in  style 
with  "Penelope's  Progress." 

The  trio  of  clever  girls  who  rambled  over  Scotland  cross  the  bor- 
der to  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  again  they  sharpen  their  wits  agains' 
new  conditions,  and  revel  in  the  land  of  laughter  and  wit. 

REBECCA  OF  SUNNYBROOK  FARM. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  studies  of  childhood— Rebecca's  artis- 
tic, unusual  and  quaintly  charming  qualities  stand  out  midst  a  circle 
of  austere  New  Englanders.  The  stage  version  is  making  a  phe- 
nomenal dramatic  record. 

NEW  CHRONICLES  OF  REBECCA.  With  illustrations 
by  F.  C.  Yohn. 

Some  more  quaintly  amusing  chronicles  that  carry  Rebecca 
through  various  stages  to  her  eighteenth  birthday. 

ROSE  O'  THE  RIVER.  With  illustrations  by  George 
Wright. 

The  simple  story  of  Rose,  a  country  girl  and  Stephen  a  sturdy 
young  farmer,  The  girl's  fancy  for  a  city  man  interrupts  their  love 
and  merges  the  story  into  an  emotional  strain  where  the  reader  fol- 
lows the  events  with  rapt  attention. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NFW  YORK 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
REC'O  (This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 

-tD 


MAR  1  91974  ' 


Form  L9-Series  444 


A     000038103     8 


